Remember Me  Addition
by CroftL
Summary: Sort of an episode tag for S02E10 – Remember Me. Loved the episode but as always, I want more and this is my attempt to satisfy that...  Full summary inside
1. Chapter 1

**TITLE:** Remember Me  
><strong>FANDOM:<strong> Rizzoli & Isles  
><strong>PAIRING:<strong> Rizzles  
><strong>SUMMARY:<strong> Sort of an episode tag for S02E10 – Remember Me. Loved the episode but as always, I want more and this is my attempt to satisfy that. Please request before archiving.  
><strong>RATING:<strong> M (Playing it safe for language and violence)  
><strong>AUTHOR's NOTE:<strong>Okay, so don't be mad with me. For those of you who are interested and still waiting for the next part of my addition to 'My Own Worst Enemy' I have not abandoned the story and hope to have the next part up relatively soon. The thing is, I watched the summer finale and couldn't help thinking about some of the things I'd read and seen and I just had to write this. I have no idea if it is any good and there is a possibility there could be some mistakes in here, all of which are my own. Please, let me know if you find any or if I can tweak it and correct it to make it better.

**DISCLAIMERS:** I do not own Rizzoli & Isles or any of the characters.

All constructive comments, opinions and suggestions are welcome so please read and review...

**Chapter 1**

Every instinct of self preservation told her not to step in closer. It was just too tempting an offer, to know the names and burial sites of everyone this bastard had murdered. Besides, it was always like some sick psychological game with him and Jane refused to let him have the upper hand. The difficulty was always in striking the balance between giving in to his requests and letting him know she was doing it because she wouldn't be manipulated by him and she wasn't afraid.

In reality she was petrified. This wretch of a man with his disfigured face and creepy sibilant whispering voice was Jane's bogeyman personified but he was also a bogeyman with more bad things to tell her and she wanted to know his secrets. She had told the warden it would take as long as it took if it helped her solve one more murder and she would do whatever she had to do, even if it meant having to move closer.

Cautiously, even as her body tried to recoil at her actions, Jane leant forward. "I'm here."

In the space of a breath Hoyt's eyes sprung open and having confirmed her proximity to him he moved with surprising speed. Throwing up his right arm he locked his sinewy fingers around Jane's tantalising close and available throat. Using momentum and guided with strength of purpose he physically flipped Jane around and threw her to the bed he had moments ago been 'dying' in so their positions were reversed and he was now leaning over her.

"Get him off me," she called out as she flailed against the arm pinning her down. Her eyes widened in fear at having her nightmare become reality and it added a desperate high pitch to her tone. She couldn't move. She was in the clutches of pure evil and the guard in the room was doing nothing. Why wasn't the guard helping her?

Maura had jumped back totally taken by surprise at the agility of a man who was supposedly expected to die before the end of the day and who was now gripping her friend by her throat and actually lifting her off her feet as he manhandled her. Unprepared for this sudden shift of power in the room it was Jane's normally deep voice sounding almost shrill in her cry for help that finally kicked Maura into gear.

Turning to the guard whom she fully expected to step in and assist, Maura found herself in the same predicament as her friend when he fixed his hand around her throat and waved a threatening tazer at her.

"I think I'll watch," he said against the climbing whine from the charged and ready tazer.

Dumbfounded by the turn of events Maura was compelled to watch as well and looked back searchingly towards Jane. _My God, Jane._ _What do I do?_Transfixed, she could see her friend held prone in the grip of a madman as he wished her a happy birthday and felt utterly helpless as she heard the whimpers she normally only associated with Jane when she was caught in the grip of a nightmare. Maura knew how to soothe those whimpers away, how to beat back those terrors but here, in this room with the guard who was supposed to protect them standing over her threateningly and the criminal being given free reign...

She stared harder at Jane, hoping for some clue as to what to do next and willing her friend to break free.

~/\~

Restrained and not considered to be much of a threat since the guard had thankfully turned off the tazer, they had sat Maura down on one of the hospital beds as if to offer a front row seat. She was well aware of Hoyt's sick little games, how he liked an audience for his peculiar piece of theatre but he needn't have worried. Maura couldn't take her eyes off the tableau in front of her if she had tried, more specifically, she couldn't take her eyes off of Jane.

Beyond their immediate dilemma she was concerned. Jane had said nothing as Hoyt commanded his newest apprentice to secure zip ties around both her and Jane's wrists. There had been no communication at all, no hint that Jane was planning something, no attempt to indicate a potential escape and most disturbingly not even a glance in her direction; it was as if Jane had withdrawn into herself. Her hands had balled into fists and her usually sharp eyes appeared glassy and focused inward.

Maura had tremendous faith in Jane but knowing Hoyt had always been her Achilles heel she tried to regain some order to her thinking and control the overwhelming fear which was consuming her to find some way to help herself and her friend. Hopefully she would think of something soon.

Hoyt was throwing Jane around like a piece of meat clearly enjoying having the upper hand. Exerting his dominance he slammed her satisfyingly back on the bed and knocked the breath out of her. He leaned in and as if vindicating his choice in her said, "I was so hoping you were smart enough to put together my clues."

Jane had found herself falling into the abyss as her worst fears ran rampant around her. Where the dreams had always felt so real, when faced with the reality it felt bizarrely like a dream; a dream in which Hoyt had his hand around her throat and was speaking to her, taunting her. She needed to get back into the game, to shake off the unreality of what was happening. She needed to focus. Maura was here. Maura was in danger. Her fault. It was all her fault and she had to do something. Focus goddammit!

"Was it fun?" Hoyt continued, "Like a murder treasure hunt?"

It was all just a game to him. A sick perverted game. How many lives had been lost and forever changed by this embodiment of evil? How many more would be lost, here, in this room? No! Not here, not Maura; he would not add her to his collection.

"I should've killed you when I had the chance," she growled.

Maura felt fresh tears fall as she heard Jane's admission couched in anguish and sniffles she knew her friend hated to display.

"Yeah, you should've."

Maura's hands squirmed as she tried to loosen her bonds again knowing it was futile but needing to do something to prevent the inevitable.

Hoyt requested the tazer. Confident Mason would pass it to him he kept his attention fixed on his ultimate prey until his fingers closed around his preferred method of subduing.

Maura could see even from across the room Jane's hands were shaking but viewed the balled fists now as a sign of defiance. Waiting to see what Hoyt intended to do next she felt powerless as she watched him turn the tazer toward her restrained friend and wave it in her face with malevolent intent.

"I could turn it on if you'd like?" he offered.

"No!" Maura couldn't hold back the wrenching cry, she was terrified. Her fear for her friend magnified to a whole new level that before today she would not have thought possible, not after having experienced the horror of seeing her friend shoot herself all those months ago. There was a keenness to this terror though which sharpened it to a point of almost numbing insensibility.

"I always finish what I start." Hoyt confidently promised.

Terrified and aware she was in serious jeopardy Jane began to twist in an effort to break free and was surprised to hear the up till now relatively silent guard chuckling. How on earth did he fit into all this? How had Hoyt done it yet again? What was the appeal of the man that he managed to attract and recruit so many like minded sickos into his service? Maybe she could still reach him, point out the flaws and dangers of making a pact with the devil.

"He played you Mason." She hated the sound of upset in her voice, the way she sniffled and fought to simply breathe. Trying to regain her bravado she held her gaze with her captor and continued to struggle even as she attempted to sow the seeds of doubt. "Just like he plays all his little apprentices."

"I'm not the one wearing zip ties detective," Mason replied smugly.

Maura caught on quickly. Jane was trying to make the guard see reason; maybe they could persuade him, befriend him, she was well aware of the technique in hostage situations. She needed to open up a dialogue. Curious she asked, "What was in it for you?"

"'s fun."

Maura was horrified; he thought this was fun? There was no way they were going to be able to reason with this man. She was even more convinced as he continued and his bitterness poured forth.

"He was all proud of himself, you know. Kid going off to law school. Big deal. Idiot was dropping off mystery books for a serial killer."

"I love mysteries," Hoyt whispered at Jane as if sharing an intimate secret.

Sickened Jane spared a look away to ask, "So you were the one who set up his bail?"

"Yeah. All he had to do for the five 'k' was swallow a balloon."

That explained the mystery of the teeth they had found in Graham's stomach. Well at least Cavanaugh would be pleased they had managed to solve the murder he wanted them working on today.

"It was too good to be true," Hoyt took up the story, like all villains of the piece needing to take a moment to divulge their brilliance. "When little Graham told me he was off to Boston college to be a double Eagle I knew then he would be the perfect envelope for my letter to you."

Hoyt leaned in closer to Jane again and placed the tazer directly under her chin. She couldn't stop the snivels of fear that escaped her as he announced with a lilting sing-song in his voice, "It's time."

Jane gasped in short breaths as Hoyt turned to his accomplice and swapped the tazer for a scalpel. She tried to look away but Hoyt's squeezing fingers restricted her movement and challenged her ability to swallow. He eyed her the way an artist scans a fresh canvas in anticipation of where to make the first stroke and loosened his grip slightly to offer a different view. She gulped audibly in the momentary freedom.

At that moment Maura, in the ever growing dread, understood something. The scalpel, precision cutting. "You killed him." She said to Mason, "That's why the edges of the stab wounds were so clean."

"Well that's very good Dr Isles," Hoyt confirmed. "Though Rod doesn't wield his scalpels with the same finesse, he did get Graham here. So I could be here with you."

Any help they may have managed to obtain from Mason was most certainly a lost cause, he had already killed for Hoyt and there was no going back. The realisation ratcheted Maura's alarm even further.

Jane was approaching overload as Hoyt's fingers performed a sickening caress of her neck, readjusting his hold to establish the perfect angle to make his first cut.

"I'm dying," he continued, "and I want company. I think I'm going to take you and Dr Isles with me."

She felt the blade pierce her skin, a two inch cut almost identical in sensation to the one inflicted on her the last time this crazy bastard escaped his bonds. She sucked in the scream that threatened and held her breath, trying to control her breathing as her heart slammed into hyper drive.

She could hear Maura. Maura was crying. Because of her, because of this maniac. She couldn't stop the tears, she was only human. It was too much.

Then something happened.

Hoyt had held the blade to her throat ready for what Jane believed would be the final cut when the pressure from around her neck released and like some perverse tag team Mason approached to hand off the tazer for the scalpel.

What was he doing? What was going on? Confused Jane tried to rise and see what was happening but Mason held her down. She became frantic now, kicking her legs as she watched Hoyt approach Maura, her friend's mouth pulled back into an expression of rictus.

"No!" Jane was frenzied. Her previous attempts to escape her bonds seemed paltry compared to the livewire struggle she was currently engaged in.

"I win Jane." Hoyt jeered as he vaunted his superiority over her.

He could kill Maura. He would kill Maura.

"Hoyt, don't you touch her!" She screamed.

Maura couldn't move, she was frozen in place. She could hear Jane's plea, could see her valiant attempt to free herself but she knew it would be futile. Hoyt had already switched the tazer back on; the high pitched whine indicated its charged and ready state. Flinching as he swung towards her she found herself despairingly begging in a pathetic whimper, "No, please, no."

The effect was immediate. As the tazer made contact with her shoulder sparks arced out and disrupted Maura's nervous system causing her to lose all control of her muscles. Falling backwards to the bed the scientific part of her brain processed how she was experiencing neuromuscular incapacitation and began to list off the symptoms, initially pain, muscle spasms, confusion and the potential for involuntary movement.

She then became aware of Hoyt standing over her, one hand pressing down on her shoulder and the other holding the scalpel to her neck.

"You're going to feel a little pinch doctor."

Stunned as she was, she could still sense the stinging sharp sensation of skin being sliced, the scent of iron and the warm trickle of her blood slowly dribbling its way down her neck.

"No! STOP IT!" Jane's struggles became ferocious she couldn't take any more, the mass of emotions coursing through her veins made her feel like she would explode. Her adrenaline flowed like magma burning in a vibrant rush throughout her entire body.

"Shut up!" Mason shouted as he attempted to pin her back down on the bed.

It was the absolute last straw. She could not contain her rage, her fear, her fury any longer. With almost superhuman strength she reared back and launched her head forward to connect with the bridge of Mason's nose. As he fell back disorientated from the blow she launched herself at him, oblivious to the wound she had inflicted upon herself and concerned only with saving Maura.

In close contact with the guard she raised her knee forcefully and sent him doubling over again winded. This gave her time to grab the tazer in an awkward two handed grip and propel it into the guard's side with determined vehemence.

From the corner of her eye, Jane could see Hoyt advancing on her and leaving the guard to fall stunned to the floor she swung the tazer around as if swinging at bat. She connected with a satisfying thwack against Hoyt's wrist and he lost his grip on the scalpel. It launched through the air to land with a musical ting several feet away and Hoyt, who had been knocked off balance, fell to the floor and slid himself toward it as if trying to reach home plate.

Jane discarded the tazer. Focused only on stopping Hoyt and ending this nightmare she threw herself to the floor and lunged for the scalpel.

Hoyt beat her to it and refusing to give in she grabbed at his wrists grappling for control.

It wasn't a pretty fight with fancy moves, it was dirty and dangerous fed with years of self-doubt, sleepless nights, fear and a determination to survive, to no longer be a victim trapped in a never-ending nightmare, to no longer feel the responsibility of knowing loved ones were in danger because of you, your life and your choices.

Fuelled with so much motivation Jane tried to obtain some leverage in hopes of incapacitating her nemesis. She curled her leg around him and delivered a backward kick to his side while simultaneously slamming the arm that held the scalpel to the floor. Following an elbow to his face, on her second attempt to force his hand open, he let go and she scrabbled to take the weapon for herself.

Gasping in much needed air, Jane levered herself into a dominant position above him. Completely caught up in her nightmare Jane sat straddled atop her greatest foe and raised her arms aloft in victory.

"I win!" she proclaimed and with as much force as she could muster plunged the scalpel into Hoyt's chest as far as it could go. "And you're going to hell alone."

She could barely speak. It had been primal, an animalistic instinct. Her system had flooded with white noise and a hatred so visceral her skin hurt.

Hoyt's eyes looked behind her and she became subliminally aware of the tazer's whine and shots being fired. Mason was behind her she realised as he fell dead beside them.

Korsak. Her old partner was here and he had fired the shots.

Her memory briefly overlaid with another time... Korsak coming to the rescue. Being pinned down. Not this time, this time she was the victor.

Her breathing rapid she moved to sit up again from the defensive posture she had adopted when the shots rang out and she was unable to resist a jabbing punch to Hoyt's gut as if further proving to herself that this time she had won, once and for all.

Trying to breathe she thought there was something she was supposed to be doing but her wits were scattered, her thoughts would not form in a coherent order. It was over, wasn't it? No, there was something important. Need to...

It wouldn't come, her vision consumed with the sight of her adversary and with blood.

~/\~

In the aftermath of the shots Frost and Korsak secured the room while the unctuous warden looked on.

Frost, already riding the adrenaline surge from the scene they had walked in on, felt his heart rise up in his throat as he spied Dr Isles lying on the surgical bed, her eyes wide and staring open. He took her by the shoulders and helped her to sit up; relieved to note she was breathing but concerned she appeared so out of it.

"You okay Doc?" he asked.

She looked at him. No, she wasn't okay. Not yet anyway. The effects of the tazer would diminish fairly soon she knew but it was the other stuff she was trying to process. She needed to check on Jane. She wasn't entirely sure what had happened due to the way in which she had been left not providing her with a wide enough field of vision to fully see what was going on but she had heard the fight. Every thud, every moan, every anguished cry and trembling breath of it.

She knew the confusion would pass but she didn't quite trust her legs yet to cooperate with her, the purpose of a taser was to disable the brain's electric signals reaching and controlling the muscles after all so with some sadness she could only watch as Korsak stepped over to Jane and pulled her away from Hoyt's body asking her if she was okay.

From where she was sitting Jane did not look okay. She looked wild. Her forehead was bleeding and at this distance Maura didn't know for sure if it was Jane's blood or Mason's. When Korsak pulled her up Maura also noted she appeared unsteady on her feet and was weaving a little as she tried to look around her old partner to make eye contact with her.

Maura wanted nothing more than to go to her and began to inch herself forward off the bed but Frost held her back. Frustrated she was unable to do so herself, she was pleased when Korsak finally pulled Jane in to his embrace, wishing it was her offering the comfort her friend so clearly needed. She could hear his calm assurances telling Jane, "You're okay," and watched in anguish as her normally invulnerable friend gave in to her fear and horror to sob against the older man's shoulder.

Korsak tightened his hold as he felt Jane's legs buckle and collapse against him. He turned slightly to look over at Frost and to communicate with him the answers Frost so desperately sought regarding his partner. He recognised with sadness the moment when realisation of startling clarity and insight set in and Frost deciphered his silent message. _This_ is what Hoyt did to her.

**Well? It was going to be a one shot but it started to grow a little and I know for sure there will be one more chapter which is so very, very nearly finished. Should I post it when it's done?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **A huge thank you to those that have shown interest in this my second attempt at a Rizzoli & Isles story. The reviews are much appreciated and yes, I know, it's terribly bad of me to post a new chapter for this one before I update the other one but please be assured, the 'MOWE' addition will not be left, it's just that this one really got a hold of me and wouldn't let me go.

I thought when I posted the first chapter that I had this one virtually pegged but after several real life intrusions and numerous re-writes and tweaks it turned out I still had a little way to go. The story expanded and now I have a dilemma but I'm going to shut up for now and let you read it first...

**DISCLAIMERS:** For full disclaimers see Chapter 1. I do not own Rizzoli & Isles or any of the characters.

All constructive comments, opinions and suggestions are welcome so please read and review...

**Chapter 2**

The bastard was dead.

The sick perverted bastard was actually dead and she had been the one to do it. Sure, she had used deadly force before but this had been up close and personal. She had never experienced such a vicious exhilaration, the heady combination of savage fury and triumph as she delivered the killing blow or the mind numbing fear that it wouldn't be enough, would never be enough.

She had never been so afraid. In fact, she didn't think she had ever stopped being afraid not since the day he had taken her down with a two by four and pinned her with such searing agony by the centre of her fleshy palms.

Her hands hurt.

They were hurting and she couldn't stop trembling. Why couldn't she stop trembling?

Her breathing hitched as she fought to keep in a sob.

Her head hurt. She couldn't remember when had she banged her head?

Damn it, everything hurt! Come on Rizzoli, get it together.

What's that smell?

Cologne?

Oh God, Korsak. She was being held by Korsak. He was holding her and she was trembling like a frightened, fragile child trying not to sob.

No, she clawed at her identity; Jane Rizzoli is not a frightened fragile child. What the hell?

She began to struggle against the arms that held her. She didn't want him to see her like this, not again, not ever.

No, she needed to go. Can't be seen like this. Not by anyone, most certainly not by her partner it was bad enough last time.

This sick bastard, who happened to be dead, was not going to rob her of her self-respect again. He would not rob her of anything again.

Maura, where was Maura? The bastard had cut her; the smug bastard had tazered and cut her and was going to...

She felt sick.

Damn it, was she crying again? Jane Rizzoli did not cry.

She clenched her hands absently noticing they were still tied together and felt once more the painful cramping ache.

Frustrated she endeavoured to break free.

~/\~

When Korsak had first arrived on the scene he had initially only been aware of an armed target moving toward his ex-partner with clear intent to cause bodily harm and he had no hesitation in firing his gun to place two shots in the rogue guard's centre mass killing him instantly.

It was only after he and Frost secured the room that he was able to see the full grizzly horror of Jane's blood streaked face and Charles Hoyt supine beneath her valiantly trying to gasp in his last lungful of life.

She was a mess, in some ways she looked worse now than when he found her in that dingy basement a couple of years ago, her arms outstretched like a perverse sacrificial offering and her hands cruelly staked to the ground. Back then he had thought she looked broken, a vital part of who she was momentarily lost but here and now he thought she looked wild and if he were blatantly honest, a little unhinged.

He took in the state of the room and the two bodies on the floor. His quick assessment and years on the force visualising how she would have had to fight two armed assailants all while having her hands bound together and no doubt scared out of her mind. He truly wished Jane would appreciate how his respect for her had just gone up another notch. In his book she was entitled to look more than a little unhinged.

He'd pulled her away from the body, gathering her up in his arms to offer whatever comfort he could while keeping up a steady iteration of 'you're okay' as much to reassure himself as it was to reassure her. He desperately wanted to remove the plastic restraints and even though Jane appeared more alert he was still reluctant to completely release his charge. She was unsteady on her feet and recalling how she had sagged against him; he held her closer unwilling to let her fall.

After only seconds Jane's strangled sobs gave way to gasps for breath and Korsak couldn't understand why Jane was practically fighting him where moments before she had seemed to welcome his consoling embrace. He became aware of her pushing him away and couldn't prevent the parallel of how she had pushed him away before. It had hurt back then and it hurt now. So what if everyone knew he was a big softy with an affinity for small furry creatures, he had a fondness for humans too and this one was very special. She was the best partner he'd ever had and he still didn't really understand why she wasn't his partner anymore, why she didn't want him to ever see her like this but today he didn't care. He was here for her and he would always be here for her and if what Jane wanted was for him to leave her alone, he would do it but only on one condition.

Deciding he needed back up he looked around.

He spotted Maura and relieved to see that she seemed relatively unharmed considering her ordeal silently indicated his need for help.

~/\~

Similar in sensation to the opening of the Eustachian tubes and air being released from the middle ear, the room gained a sudden welcome sharpness and definition as lucidity at long last returned to Maura. She had finally found her feet, literally and figuratively, as she slid off the bed and stood mindful of Detective Frost hovering solicitously nearby.

She caught him glancing at her neck where the thankfully shallow cut had allowed a small amount of blood to run, the coagulation process starting almost the instant the endothelium lining of her blood vessels were damaged, and absurdly felt mildly self-conscious. She knew it wasn't because her appearance was below her usual pristine standards it was because of what that cut represented. It was a violation and regardless of any scarring, much like the blood stain on her designer dress, she had been indelibly marked.

She shivered and rubbed at her wrists, relieved at regaining independent movement.

Unsure how to process what was without question one of the most harrowing moments of her life her attention was drawn to the sight of her friend.

"Get them off of me. Get them off!" Jane's husky voice sounded even rougher than usual and she was frantically waving her bound wrists as she pushed away from Korsak, her shaking body and untamed hair adding a sense of feral beauty to her visage.

Korsak was clearly out of his depth and was now looking searchingly at Maura in a desperate cry for help.

Maura noted Jane's growing distress and, worried she would do further harm to herself, turned and quietly spoke to the anxious looking detective beside her. "Barry, could you please give us the room?"

Barry tore his eyes away from the mesmerising scene of his partner's transformation into a Tasmanian devil and took a minute to interpret Maura's request.

"Now," Maura said urgently.

Knowing what an intensely private person Jane was Maura understood from personal experience how mortified her friend would be to have so many witnesses to her budding mini meltdown. Maura remembered only too well how genuinely uncomfortable Jane had been at all the attention she received during the first weeks of her recovery as a result of her self-inflicted gunshot wound. It had reached the point where she had asked Maura to speak to her friends and colleagues to ask them to stay away and she could still recall the hurt in Frost and Korsak's eyes when she had relayed the message to them.

At the moment though, all she cared about was Jane.

Fortunately Frost was an intelligent man and knew better than to argue with the no nonsense tone he recognised all too well. He indicated to the other men in the room they should leave attaining only minimal resistance in the form of the warden. The odious prick was no doubt trying to find a way to salvage his career and stupidly opened his mouth to make some kind of argument then thought better of it when Maura just glared at him.

Maura could not believe the gall of the man. She was still silently cheering her friend for her response to his suggestion of her being hysterical even as she feared that if they didn't leave the room soon they may just see this come to pass.

Beaten, the warden trailed out of the room with the others leaving only Maura, Korsak and Jane behind.

Maura picked up the surgical scissors used to release her own hands and approached Korsak. She placed her hand on his shoulder to let him know she was there and told him, "It's okay Vince, I've got this."

Relieved but worried he stepped back.

Jane stared defiantly at him and then glared at Maura as if to say, 'come on already, why the hell are my hands still tied?'

Acknowledging the ladies probably needed a moment alone Korsak took one last look, nodded and reluctantly left the room. Vowing to give them as much time as he could before the circus erupted he went in search of the warden, he wanted answers and he wanted them now.

~/\~

Alone in the room save for the bodies on the floor, Jane waved her wrists hopefully at Maura.

Saying nothing, Maura eyed the perceptively swaying woman as she drew nearer and used one hand to steady the trembling hands presented to her while the other cut the plastic bonds and released Jane from their grip.

Immediately Jane's first action was to rub at her wrists as Maura had done and then shake her hands out as if to rid them of excess water. Only it wasn't water she was trying to dispel. Running a hand through her hair to pull it away from her face she became conscious of the blood there and on her hand. She looked up from her bloodied hands to face Maura and instantly locked on to the red line marring Maura's throat.

Sickened and reaching emotional overload she stumbled away from the bodies and supported herself against the wall. With mounting horror she realised that she was actually about to be sick.

Unable to quell the nausea she felt the bile rise and bent double, disgorging the meagre contents of her stomach with a dull wet splat on the infirmary floor. It was at this point her legs finally gave out and she collapsed, sliding down the wall to end in a quivering mass of long limbs and hair.

Maura hurried to her, unsurprised by the turn of events but naturally concerned. She grabbed at the blanket on the nearby bed and yanked it free settling it around Jane's shoulders as she hunkered down next to her.

Jane managed a smile in thanks and then hurriedly turned away to throw up again. This time it was little more than a watery substance, she was sure Maura would have some fancy name for it. Ugh, she felt shitty. All in all it had been a completely shitty day. Even the silver lining of Hoyt's death couldn't as yet penetrate through the sheer horror and pure shittiness of this day.

She had braced herself against the floor with wobbly arms that felt like wet noodles and briefly closed her eyes, unsure whether she was going to be sick again or if that was finally it. Running her tongue around her teeth she spat the remnants on the floor and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand noting with disgust it was still shaking.

"Jane," Maura said, gently rubbed soothing circles on Jane's back.

Jane turned away from the offensive reminder on the floor and curled into Maura's one armed embrace, pathetically mewling at the motion of Maura's hand offering some comfort. She had nearly lost her today. He had had his blade to her throat and she had seen the blood; Maura's blood. Her mind's eye felt the tearing of Maura's flesh as keenly as her sanity being ripped asunder. There had been nothing after that except a miasma of hatred and rage.

She tilted back her head and closed her eyes again; she couldn't seem to breathe properly and was having difficulty catching her breath.

A hand cupped her face, warm and soft.

"Jane, are you still with me?"

Like she could be anywhere else, with anyone else. "Hm mm," she managed. "Little dizzy."

The skin under her hand had adopted a sickly grey pallor and was cold and clammy to the touch. Maura was becoming even more concerned by the shallow rapid breathing which showed no signs of evening out. Considering her next move she was surprised when Jane's eyes finally opened to look directly at her and she noted with medical interest their dull, dilated state.

"Wh...why can't I stop shaking?" Jane asked, pulling the blanket in tighter.

"You're in shock Jane," Maura told her.

"Well, why do I have to be in shock?" she asked indignantly. "Why aren't you in shock?"

"You want me to be in shock too?" Maura asked with her hurt 'is that really what you want?' look.

"No," Jane admitted like an admonished child and then violently shivered again. She hated the thought of Maura being hurt or injured and could barely glance at the wound on her neck without her stomach tensing and threatening to vomit yet again. She sucked in a breath, "This sucks."

"It's not unexpected Jane, in fact it's a perfectly natural response." Maura looked as if she was going to say more but stopped herself, examining Jane closely.

"Can't you make it stop?" Jane asked hopefully.

Maura wished she could but could only smile in sympathy as she shook her head no.

"Well... how long until it stops?" Jane asked and glanced beyond Maura to the two bodies lying on the other side of the room. "We still have a crime scene to process."

Maura's eyes widened although she knew she shouldn't be surprised. Jane would want things to get back to normal as soon as possible, to tackle the case and be a cop first and foremost.

Jane's breathing hitched and she shuddered again, her skin incredibly going even paler than it had moments before.

"What is it?" Maura asked. "Are you going to be sick again?"

Jane clamped her jaw and shook her head 'no' determined she would most definitely not be sick again, there wouldn't be anything left to come out anyway she was sure.

"Jane," Maura drew her attention again, "you just need to calm down."

"You really want me to learn those meditation exercises don't you doc?" she stuttered.

"Medical research has shown that meditation can be beneficial and have very positive effects on a person's emotional well-being," Maura began and then caught Jane rolling her eyes. Using her free hand Maura reached out to grab Jane's bloodied, scarred hands and extract them from the blanket. Holding them she looked earnestly at her friend and sighed heavily.

"What?" Jane smirked even as she continued to gasp, "Do I have something on my face?"

Maura smiled in return. The blood, which up close she noted was Jane's, had bled with the typical severity all head wounds do but it could not detract from the sheer perfection of Jane's beautifully, sculptured face. "It's important and I need you to calm your breathing or you're going to hyperventilate."

Jane's eyes widened again, "Um... okay." She wasn't sure how she was supposed to do that because she had been trying to do that for what felt like the last ten minutes or so.

"Deep breath in," Maura demonstrated having seen the flash of panic, "long breath out. That's it." She kept up the reassuring strokes to Jane's back as Jane's hands convulsively clutched at her other hand until eventually her breathing slowed and steadied.

Both needing without saying the sustained physical connection, they sat for a short while in companionable silence each lost in their own thoughts content to hold and be held. Only the controlled in and out and the rhythmic circular motion which Maura maintained broke the stillness of their personal crucible.

Jane welcomed this brief respite after the frenzy of the fight and its immediate aftermath. Not being a person who could easily compartmentalise what she was thinking and feeling the constant movie reel playing in her head was playing havoc with her emotions. There were too many things to feel, too much all at once, relief, shame, anger, fear, guilt.

She dipped her head forward as her shoulders mercifully released some of their tension and she could feel the smart of fresh tears burning her eyes. In her deep scratchy voice she softly husked, "I killed him, Maura."

A commotion at the door caught their attention before Maura had an opportunity to respond and Cavanaugh burst in with an apologetic looking Korsak trailing behind him.

Embarrassed, Jane moved to swiftly push to her feet surreptitiously using the wall for support and Maura followed suit. The blanket she had wrapped around her fell away with the last of her adrenaline and in its place she felt a wave of fatigue enshroud her.

"Rizzoli, Dr Isles," Cavanaugh greeted and then motioned to one of the bodies in the room, "That him?"

"Yes sir," Jane responded and hastily wiped at her eyes where fresh tears had formed. She cleared her throat wincing as she swallowed and then falling back on the habits of procedure and protocol she began delivering her report. "Mason was working with Hoyt." His name still tasted bitter on her tongue for all the sweetness of her victory. "Mason paid Graham to swallow the balloon and then he killed him."

"It wasn't a shiv," Maura interjected, "Mason used a scalpel."

Cavanaugh looked at them both and raised his brow in question.

"It was all about Hoyt and getting me here with him. He wanted us to follow his clues." She had tried to tell Cavanaugh it was all about Hoyt when the investigation began and yet she didn't feel the usual smug satisfaction of being right, the price this time had nearly been too high.

"It'll all be in my report, sir."

"I look forward to reading it."

He looked down at Hoyt's body. Korsak had briefed him on the way in and he viewed Jane's handiwork with his own eyes, the embedded scalpel standing erect like a miniature sword in the stone. "IA will want to talk with you," he advised.

Jane nodded. From a procedural point of view there would be no question of her actions being ruled as a justifiable homicide, she just dreaded the formality.

Cavanaugh surveyed the room taking note of the disarray before bringing his eyes back to his top detective and chief medical examiner. It was clear they had been through the wars and yet Rizzoli's gaze was challenging when he made eye contact with her. He took in all the blood and the bruising already evident around the detective's throat, then noticed the matching cuts along their necks.

"Make sure you see a medic," he instructed, "both of you."

Jane huffed, not liking the way her Lieutenant always managed to view her as if she was still a victim. She was not a victim damn it! She had won! Again.

"Yes, sir," she half-heartedly agreed.

"Of course," Maura said perplexed at such an obvious instruction. Casting a glance at Jane however she considered what she knew of her friend's established patterns of behaviour and became unconvinced the sometimes difficult woman would obey the order without persuasion.

Jane's statement earlier had left her intrigued and she suspected she may have been about to tell her something more. Irrationally, she found herself bristling with annoyance at the timing of Cavanaugh's intrusion but then this was a crime scene and they had a job to do.

There would be time later.

**So I have to say I felt pretty darn chuffed when I wrote this which doesn't happen very often and that has me slightly worried – what do you think? Any good?**

**As for the dilemma... could it end here? Comments, thoughts, opinions all appreciated :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: **Once again a huge thank you for the alerts and reviews, I can't tell you how much they really help to bolster one's self-esteem.

Strange but true, I made the mistake of reading some of the stories on this site and was honestly intimidated by the amazing quality of the writing, the characterisations and the dialogue - all spot on.

It's taken a little while but I've managed to squeeze that part of me to one side by remembering that it doesn't have to be awesome but if you don't put anything out there at all, well, then you'll never know one way or the other. So finally, here's the next chapter...

**DISCLAIMERS:** For full disclaimers see Chapter 1. I do not own Rizzoli & Isles or any of the characters.

All constructive comments, opinions and suggestions are welcome so please read and review...

**Chapter 3**

Scanning the room Jane took a moment to shore up her usual tough persona and regain her equilibrium. She drew in a breath and briefly pinched the bridge of her nose, wincing as the cut on her forehead made itself known, and tried valiantly to ignore the incessant throbbing which seemed to rebound from one side of her skull to the other. Her neck felt raw, her throat bruised and now her adrenaline had served its purpose it was purely sheer will and stubbornness holding her together.

Her tongue rebelled as she caught the lingering taste of vomit and she thought how typical of her dealings with Hoyt that she was left with a bad taste in her mouth. She saw the tap and quickly swilled the water, rinsing out her mouth before spitting the remains in the sink. If only it would be that easy to get rid of everything else.

It had been an incredibly long thirty six hours and with no immediate end in sight she knew she was going to have to find some way to put it all behind her. She wanted to go back to about five minutes ago when she had been comfortably ensconced in a scratchy prison blanket and Maura's warm embrace. That had been her first truly sane moment since they entered the prison the previous morning and her personal nightmare came to life once more.

But there was no time to indulge in any of that now, she just had to follow through with standard procedures and keep going, maybe then she could get some sleep. No, wait, what was she thinking? If she knew her ma, she would still have her birthday to contend with.

She rolled her shoulders as if to kick start her brain.

The room had filled with the multitude of people required to analyse and investigate a crime scene. Cavanaugh had moved off to join Korsak who appeared to be grilling a very pale-faced and contrite looking warden. Jane would be interested to hear how he was going to explain how one of his guards had slipped through the net to end up working for one of the inmates let alone how he would justify his attitude towards the officers trying to investigate a murder committed inside his prison. Weren't they supposed to be on the same team?

Jane hoped they pinned his sorry butt to the wall. She had had it up to here with his petty vindictiveness and snide remarks. Who knew what differences could have been made if they had made it through the security check in time to speak to Graham Randall before he died. Of course, there was no guarantee he would have been able to talk to them at all but... Jane found her irritation growing again as she thought of the deliberate hold ups and ridiculousness of Maura being frisked. They could have put the pieces together so much sooner.

No, she berated herself, no 'coulda, shoulda, woulda'. How many times had she thought she should have killed Hoyt when she had the chance? She needed to deal with the 'now' and the 'how it is'. And right now, Hoyt was dead.

Maura stood patiently next to her. Jane realised with all the ebb, flow and general hubbub carrying on around them she could sense her presence with an almost hyper awareness. She wondered if it was an after effect of the shock Maura said she'd experienced or just a natural response to seeing a loved one threatened and needing to constantly know where they are. Maybe when they finally got out of here she would ask her.

"Um... detective?" the crime scene tech who appeared before her motioned apologetically with his camera, "I need to um... document..." He trailed off clearly intimidated by the fierce irritated glare Jane shot at him.

Realising he was just doing his job but nevertheless hating that once again there would be stills capturing Hoyt's mark on her she reluctantly pulled her hair to one side and exposed the cut on her neck. She tolerated with growing anger the camera's relentless focus on her, her neck, her forehead, her throat, her wrists and hands. Reaching the limit of her patience she was about to snarl 'enough already' when Maura drew the photographer's attention and with the ease of a top fashion model, pulled her own hair back to practically shimmy at the camera.

Jane snorted. It just seemed so goofy and yet reassuringly Maura.

"What?" Maura asked wide eyed and innocent.

"It's not vogue Maura."

"Well no but..." she looked mournfully at Jane, concerned she had done something wrong, "I was just trying to ensure the pictures would accurately reflect the nature of..." It was Maura's turn to trail off now, unsure she was really ready to fully contemplate the nature of Hoyt's attack.

Jane rubbed Maura's arm and squeezed, "I know."

They shared a quick smile. Maura appreciated Jane's presence and was pleased to see the detective engaging in her surroundings again after experiencing her momentary withdrawal but her instincts as both a doctor and a friend knew the various wounds they both had needed to be dealt with and deciding her next order of business she spied the paramedic loitering in the hallway. She waited until the photographer finished and, as he issued a 'thanks' and moved off to take more photos of the actual crime scene, she tugged on Jane's arm to pull her towards the door.

"Maura I don't need..." Jane began to resist when she saw the direction in which they were heading.

"Yes, you do. Besides, you're under orders."

"Uh huh, we both are. Why don't you go first? I need to speak with Korsak."

Maura tightened her grip, "You do not need to speak to Korsak, you need to get your head looked at."

At that Jane indignantly pulled away and put her hands on her hips, "Did you just tell me to get my head examined?"

"Head injuries are not to be taken lightly Jane."

"Well I still think you should go first, he used a tazer on you..."

"Studies have shown the only side effects from tazers primarily result from falls and as I..."

Frustrated, Jane whirled on her friend to grip her by her upper arms and growled in a voice meant to be heard by only them, "I don't care about studies Maura, I care about you."

Maura held her gaze for a moment, touched once more at the fierce intensity of protectiveness Jane exuded before she calmly continued, "I appreciate that, I do. But Jane, this is basic triage and at the moment, as much as you might not like to admit it, you are the person with the greater needs."

Jane studied Maura, her eyes flicking down to the open wound on her neck before returning to hold their stare. Knowing her friend would not be budged, Jane sighed and pulled a face.

Maura smiled in response delighted at seeing the sometimes childish Jane Rizzoli in evidence.

"Can't you just take care of this?" Jane whined as she pointed in the general direction of her head with all its various cuts and bruises.

They had begun moving to the hallway and were now in earshot of the paramedic whose eyes briefly opened wide as he took in the tall raven haired woman being dragged towards him with blood drying over her face.

"Yes and no, that's what this nice man here is for." Maura smiled winningly at the paramedic and guided Jane to a nearby chair. She was at first shocked and then concerned when Jane put up surprisingly only minor resistance as she sank into the waiting seat and she continued letting Jane believe she was fooling her with her half-hearted protestations of not needing any help.

"Besides, all things considered I feel relatively fine, really," Maura was trying to be discrete; she knew she would be lying if she said she was a hundred percent. She had watched her friend held captive, had personally been tazered and had a scalpel held to her throat inflicting damage, albeit minor. No, she was most definitely not a hundred percent fine but in comparison to her friend whom she knew so well... she took in Jane's bowed head as she slumped in the chair. She could see her exhaustion in the set of her shoulders and the slight sheen of sweat beading on her upper lip. No, of the two of them, Jane most definitely had the greater needs.

Jane sat in the chair and tried to cover the fact she was still a little shaky as she reluctantly let the paramedic tend to her.

"Happy now?" Jane scowled, knowing she was being childish but still reeling with a host of conflicting thoughts. Thoughts that included wanting to know that Maura was really okay. Wanting to know that Maura was really safe and was far away from this place, that perhaps she was even better off staying away from her but also selfishly wanting Maura to stay, to never leave her sight as if she alone could keep her safe, regardless of how she nearly failed this time. She wanted to be involved in finishing up the investigation but she also wanted to step as far away from it as possible, distancing herself from it and all the potential aftermath. She wanted to get the infernal IA discussion out of the way but at the same time she was beginning to be plagued with doubts as the reality of what happened in the infirmary began to bombard her conscience. She wanted to crawl into bed and sleep. She wanted very much just to sleep but she also dreaded the prospect of doing so, Hoyt may be dead but that didn't mean the nightmare had truly ended, did it?

Maura simply stood at her side and felt the need to apologise to the paramedic on her friend's behalf for her behaviour. "Please excuse my friend," Maura began, "she's had a rough couple of days."

The paramedic nodded understandingly while Jane glared back at her.

"Okay detective, let's take a look at this cut shall we." He began his initial exam by peering at her head wound. Removing some saline solution from his kit he cleaned away the blood which caused it to start bleeding again. Opening a sterile dressing he adeptly placed it over the cut and applied direct pressure to try and stem the trickle.

Jane held back the grimace as regardless of how gently he prodded the pain of her headache localised into that one area.

"Have you suffered from any dizziness or nausea?" he asked.

"Both actually," Maura provided, "She also displayed symptoms of shock and actually vomited twice."

"Really?" Jane asked, horrified when Maura continued talking.

"Disclosing full medical history is always advisable when seeking treatment Jane."

"Really?" she asked again with a slightly different intonation and looked at the paramedic for support.

He simply shrugged in sympathy and felt a little uncertain whether he should be asking his unwilling patient the next series of questions he needed to ask or the more informative medical professional. Clearly torn he chose to concentrate on his task and with the area cleaned he manipulated the edges of the wound apologising as he applied butterfly strips to hold the cut together. "You're going to feel a little pinch," he explained.

Jane stilled. Her breath held as she balled her hands into fists and wrestled with fight or flight instinct. The words triggered an overwhelming physical reaction as her heart raced and blood surged with renewed adrenaline.

The paramedic had moved on to similarly address the wound on her neck when he noticed his patient's pulse and the sudden unnatural stillness. A brief glance to the doctor beside her indicated his patient wasn't the only one unintentionally affected by his words. Seeing the doctor pale he rose up from his kneeling position and guided her to sit beside her friend.

"Hey, everyone okay?" he asked.

Maura nodded, eking out, "Vasovagal."

This seemed to draw Jane out of her trance and turning to her friend she put one arm around her back in an attempt to help manoeuvre Maura's head between her knees. "She was tazered before she was cut." Jane blurted out, her focus now on Maura who scowled back at her in her distress. "Full disclosure right?"

Fluttering her own hand in her face as if to ward off the onset of a sneeze Maura pulled back teary-eyed to state, "I'm okay. I think I'm okay."

With Maura's assurances the paramedic persisted in treating his original patient.

Jane continued eyeing Maura, disbelieving and growing impatient with the attention still being given to her. "Are we done yet?" she asked the paramedic. She felt Maura's hand on her leg and reached to encompass it with her own.

"Nearly there."

Jane flinched involuntarily as the medic finished off by applying some gauze and continued with the steady stream of questions he needed to ask to assess her state of fitness.

Either she had answered something incorrectly or grown a third eye because he was clearly not entirely happy with what he was seeing. She just wanted this to be done already. She was tired, beyond tired and everything hurt.

"Did you drive yourself here today detective?" he asked.

Jane was about to answer when Frost, who had moved to stand close by, quickly interjected, "I'll be driving Detective Rizzoli back to the station."

Jane looked at him as if to say, 'oh, yeah?'

"The Lieutenant wants you to head back," Frost informed her.

"I brought Dr Isles with me." Jane pointed out, torn between her inability to prevent the nagging internal voice which persisted in berating her, 'it's your fault she was here, therefore your fault she got hurt' and her sudden irrational fear they would be separated. It was almost keeping time with her headache.

Jane knew how stupid her statement sounded the minute she said it but she could feel her exhaustion giving way to anger. She just needed to keep it together as she flatly refused to have yet another meltdown, particularly one so public.

"Oh, Jane," Maura looked regretful, "I still need to contact Dr Pike and arrange for the release of the bodies."

"You're not doing the autopsies?" Jane looked horrified.

"No, of course not. I'll need to recuse myself but I'd like to stay until Dr Pike arrives." Maura wanted to be sure that Hoyt was tested and confirmed on record as genuinely having cancer. Her illicit appropriation of Hoyt's blood earlier was still causing her some distress and she wanted to ensure everything relating to this evil excuse for a man was accurate, above board and beyond reproach.

Korsak, who had also made his way over to them, piped up before Jane could say anything derogatory about one of her least favourite MEs, "I can give you a lift doctor." She noticed Korsak was acting weird like someone had kicked his puppy and he was unsure what to do about it. "It will give me a chance to take your statement as well."

Maura smiled and nodded her agreement.

"Fine," Jane rolled her eyes. "Guess you get to take me then partner."

Frost nodded and gestured with a courtly bow, "My carriage awaits."

Jane shook her head amused. "Are we done?" she asked the medic again who clearly knew better than to answer in the negative. "Okay then, let's go."

She shared a brief look with Maura who smiled encouragingly at her as the medic began dressing her wound.

"I'm fine." Maura smiled again. "I'll catch up with you later."

Oh God, her 'surprise' birthday party. How could she forget? "Sure." She wanted to say more, to do more... 'out is through' she considered and at some point she was sure she would be having a discussion with Maura that would finally put her mind at ease.

Frost was waiting for her and although she was aware he was in his own way hovering she found she actually appreciated the close distance he maintained as they walked back to the security checkpoint.

Reclaiming her things Jane secured her gun back on her belt and started to feel as though she were becoming whole again despite the minor tremors in her hands and the way they still hurt. Some things would never fully go back to normal it seemed.

To be continued...

**Oh yes, there's more to come. I'm hoping you want that...**

**PS: **My MOWE story is _not_ forgotten!


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: **My humble thanks for all the alerts and reviews.

I'm hoping that for this chapter you will forgive any lack of knowledge about correct police procedures and allow some creative license as I attempt to fill in the gaps from the show.

I also really hope my thinking makes sense...

**DISCLAIMERS:** For full disclaimers see Chapter 1. I do not own Rizzoli & Isles or any of the characters.

All constructive comments, opinions and suggestions are welcome so please read and review...

**Chapter 4**

The drive back was quiet.

They had said very little on the way to the car and Jane maintained the silence as she stared out of the passenger side window, too lost in her own thoughts to notice either the familiar shifting scenery or the uncertain glances Frost kept throwing her way.

In the glimpses he stole Frost recognised the pensive look on his partner's face and the all too familiar frenetic movement of her fingers as they rested in her lap. She was most likely completely oblivious to her actions but accustomed as he had become to her varied mannerisms and patterns of behaviour, he knew something was bothering her. Not unsurprising all things considered but Frost couldn't shake the feeling it was something deeper, something more than simply the aftermath of another run in with Hoyt, an individual guaranteed to wind his partner up and knock her out of whack.

Something had happened in that infirmary beyond the end result of Hoyt's demise and Frost's natural curiosity was alive with questions.

He could simply ask her.

His eyes shifted to the right and discerned the signals broadcast by his partner's body language and posture.

While at first look you could be mistaken into thinking Jane's slouched form meant she was somewhat relaxed, Frost read the tension in her hunched shoulders and perceived the slight turn in her upper body as if drawing away or shielding herself, definitely defensive but about what?

She looked tired and Frost was sensitive to the fact she would at some point be expected to run through everything that had happened by recounting her actions to Internal Affairs.

Maybe asking her about it right now wasn't such a good idea.

Still, he wanted to say something.

He had been with homicide long enough now to have more of an idea of what to expect when called to a scene even if he still had issues sometimes controlling his physical response to it but what he'd seen when he entered the prison infirmary today...

He knew Jane Rizzoli was tough, he'd watched her shoot herself to take Marino down. He knew she was driven, he'd seen her practically work herself into the ground to solve a case. He also knew she carried scars both visible and hidden and yet somehow she always found the strength to go beyond them so that they didn't define her but instead helped to shape her.

What he had seen today had left him totally in awe.

He cast about trying to think of the right thing to say that could initiate a conversation.

"Big day huh?" he said.

Jane looked at him, "Yeah, big day."

She rolled her head to continue staring out the window.

Frost decided to concentrate on driving.

~/\~

Arriving back at the precinct Jane quickly bypassed the cafe for fear of encountering her mother but then realised as she successfully reached the lift uninterrupted that her ma would be out trying to find the pony decorations for her 'surprise' party. For once that day she had reason to be thankful it was her birthday. She knew she couldn't avoid her mother forever but right now, she wanted to file her report and get the hell out of there.

Breezing past Frost with her longer strides she headed to the washroom and called over her shoulder, "I'll catch up."

She was relieved to notice all the stalls were empty. She crossed to one of the sinks, ran some water and began to wash the blood off her hands. As she scrubbed she realised there were tiny abrasions around her wrists and recalled with almost heart stopping terror her frantic, desperate attempts to fight while handicapped by the plastic restraints.

She closed her eyes, took a breath and braced herself against the sink, soapy hands clutching at the ceramic basin. With flesh crawling clarity she could hear Maura's whimpered pleas, sense the utter uselessness in her ability to do anything about it and the desperation of eventually delivering blow after blow.

Fight or die.

Her hands gripped tighter as she pulled on all the damaged and fragmented threads.

Maura was okay.

She was okay.

Hoyt was dead.

After a moment she exhaled heavily and opened her eyes to confront her image in the mirror.

Jane wasn't a vain person by any means but as she studied the woman looking back at her she was struck with the notion that she had really outdone herself this time. The butterfly strips featured prominently front and centre were startlingly white like a beacon screaming 'look here!' and if you missed those, check out the rather fetching matching white square patch of gauze on her neck, just a little east of the mottled bruising which bore a distinct finger pattern sure to match any couture design for this season.

What really drew her attention though were her eyes. She found she couldn't look at them for long, she didn't like the way they looked back at her.

Jane jumped when the door opened. She acknowledged with a quick nod of her head the woman who entered and hurriedly sealed herself in one of the stalls. Uncomfortable now she didn't have the room to herself she hastily finished washing her hands.

The mirror drew her attention again and avoiding the dark look, she noticed some blood still evident on her face. Careful not to wet the wounded area she threw some water at it and hoped it would have the added benefit of waking her up a bit.

Man she was tired.

Maybe she should have stopped to get coffee. Her stomach grumbled in response and she wondered when was the last time she had anything to eat?

Her last meal was currently residing on the floor of the prison infirmary and the thought brought with it the unwelcome return of mild nausea. Maybe she'd grab a candy bar from the machine. She rolled her eyes as she imagined Maura's disapproval and an encyclopaedic recitation of the pros and cons and nutritional values of her dietary choices versus healthy eating.

She grabbed some paper towels, dried off the excess water and binned them.

With one last futile primp of her hair she pulled back her shoulders and tugged the lapels of her suit to settle her jacket into place. Conceding it was hopeless she exited the room.

Resisting the draw of the vending machine she made it back to her desk. A venti coffee waited for her like a proud sentinel among her outstanding paperwork and she thanked her partner as she removed her jacket and hung it over the back of her chair before throwing herself into it with relief. Although the water had made her a little more alert she was positive the coffee would finish the job, even if she was a little concerned about how it would settle on her empty stomach. She took a sip, the too hot liquid instantly burning her tongue but acting like a balm as it burned its way down her throat, cauterising the abuse which had been inflicted there. It was a moment of nirvana.

Savouring the flavour, she rubbed her brow line in what was sadly a fruitless attempt to further ward off her growing headache and wincing at the pull from her cut, sighed as she turned on her computer and waited for it to boot up.

Her mind wandered as her eyes drifted down to her hands, the scars so prominent. She rubbed at her palms as she waited, ineffectually trying to ease the constant ache and distractedly caught sight of the blood still present in the nail beds.

Her phone rang and she snatched it up, "Rizzoli."

"You're expected to report to IA detective. We're waiting for you."

She noticed her partner looking at her quizzically.

"Um, yeah sure, I'm on my way."

"You okay?" Frost asked.

She wished people would stop asking her that. "Yeah, I um... I've got to go deal with this."

"Who was it?"

"IA."

"Well they didn't waste any time."

"No." Jane didn't know why but suddenly she was consumed with a horrible feeling of dread.

"Routine though right?" Frost shrugged. "It's just a formality."

"Yeah," she stood and snatched up her jacket, putting it on and releasing her long hair in a well practiced move. "You want to start on the reports?"

"Sure," Barry nodded. He'd watched his partner as she entered the room and was concerned if not unsurprised by her withdrawn and introspective attitude. Still feeling inadequate after their shared drive he offered, "You know... if you needed to..."

"Yeah, I know." She cut him off and hastened to yet one more thing she wished was over with already.

~/\~

"So detective, you received a call from the guard stating that Hoyt wanted to see you."

"That's right."

"And that he was dying and willing to give up the names and burial sites of every person he murdered."

"Correct."

"Seems like a fantastic opportunity."

"It would bring closure to a lot of families, yes."

"Why did he ask for you?"

Jane looked at the internal affairs investigator with a patented 'are you kidding me' expression before answering, "I guess Hoyt had a thing for me."

"So the two of you have history?"

Did this guy not read her file? "Yes, we have history."

"In fact he's targeted you on numerous occasions."

So he had read her file. Great. She stopped rubbing at her palms and folded her arms. "I was responsible for putting Charles Hoyt behind bars not once but twice."

She felt the need to rebuild her image and reclaim her standing; Cavanaugh's voice was once again ringing in her ears accusing her of being a victim and she refused to think of herself that way, especially when it came to Hoyt.

"Technically your former partner one," he consulted the file in front of him, "Vince Korsak, was actually responsible for bringing Hoyt down the first time. I believe you were incapacitated." He raised his eyes to look at her, searching.

Slightly riled, Jane confirmed in a tone which told of countless recitations, "At the time in question I had found the suspect's location and made the decision to proceed without waiting for back up as I believed a civilian to be in danger. This has all been covered before."

Jane failed to see the necessity of bringing up ancient history particularly as it related to the current situation and fought to keep her attitude in check. She just wanted to get out of there.

"I'm just trying to understand the relationship you have with the deceased."

She didn't like that. It made her decidedly uneasy and she truly didn't want to consider herself as having any kind of relationship with such a lowlife excuse for a human.

Remembering her desire to get through this she chose to exercise some patience and say nothing.

"Hoyt previously escaped and, with the aid of an apprentice, managed to lure you, incapacitate you again and as a result of that altercation you received third degree burns and gunshot wounds to both hands."

Jane almost snorted at that, recalling clearly the sense of vindication when she wounded him in a way she hoped would make him suffer as much as she had. Although it hadn't really worked out that way had it? Hoyt seemed to revel in their co-ordination, proud of their matching scars and how they further supported his crazy notion they were in some way linked.

Jane shuddered. Her arms unfolded and her fingers found the distortions on the landscape of her hands the way a compass finds true north. She continued to remain silent and wait until a direct question was asked.

Sensing he needed to try a different tact or move on the investigator continued, "It seems that even behind bars however, Hoyt has a way of reaching you detective. Why is that do you think?"

Jane was getting angry now. She was tired, she knew internal affairs had a job to do as much as she did but right now it seemed to be pointless needling and frankly plain insulting. "How the hell should I know?" She spat, her temper getting the better of her and doing little to help either her headache or her cause. Reining it in she continued, "I did my job, I put him away. Security screwed up and he managed to escape... I got lucky." She absently rubbed at her chest where the flare had burned her. "Hoyt has a way of reaching people, turning them and getting them to do things for him. He manipulates them."

The investigator sat in stony silence, waiting.

Jane was used to the inscrutable technique he was using on her, she'd used it a couple of times herself and knew Maura was a master of it judging by the number of times she'd fallen victim to it but in her current situation, tired, aching, concerned for her friend and wanting the day to be over with she crumbled and asked in pitiful frustration, "What is it you want me to say?"

"What I want detective is for you to explain to me how it is that we're in the situation we're now in. You went to the prison and allowed yourself to be physically overpowered..."

"Wait a minute... what?"

"...by a man you have had various dealings with. You knew..." he continued over her objections.

"Allowed? I allowed myself?" She could feel herself shaking again. Feel the icy touch of his bony fingers as they wrapped themselves around her throat, his other hand supporting the back of her neck as he lifted her off her suddenly incredibly weak legs and then becoming momentarily weightless until he threw her down on her back to secure a position of dominance as he held her in his grip.

"...of his history and yet you still put yourself in a vulnerable position."

"Now you wait a goddamn minute. I 'put' myself in that position. This is bullshit!" She stood up, pushing away from the table, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"Watch your tone detective."

My tone? Jane stalked the tiny room as she tried to draw in her temper. What the hell? This had to be a joke. Did this asshole seriously think she had some kind of martyr complex and would willingly throw herself, not to mention her best friend, into the reaches of a deranged serial killer sociopath?

She felt unnaturally warm. Unsure whether it was a physiological or an environmental response to the temperature within the confining room she could feel her cuts stinging as her skin began to perspire.

With slightly more control she glared at her interrogator and used her hands to attempt to list off the points as she saw it, "He was supposed to be restrained. There was a guard in the room. The warden had agreed the meet, complete with restrictions. In short, it should not have happened!"

Still needing to bleed out the excess anger Jane slammed her hands down on the table in front of her, the glasses and water jug so thoughtfully provided threatening to spill in response. She leaned forward. "How was I supposed to know the guard had released Hoyt's restraints? Damn it! He was supposed to be dying. Warden Price had advised he was not expected to last out the day. How exactly could I have known that Hoyt had worked his bloody magic again and bought the guard? How?" She reemphasised her final question with another smack of her palms.

When the investigator failed to respond to her outburst and answer her questions she huffed out an impatient breath.

Silence descended into the room.

Her body ached. Her actions had left her lightheaded and judging they were not getting out of there anytime soon she sat back down. Her palms stung and she closed her eyes for a moment trying to calm down and wishing more than ever she had paid attention to the meditation techniques Maura was always trying to foist on her.

The investigator had fully intended to provoke the detective in order to gauge her state of mind and to gain a better understanding of the situation particularly considering the size of the detective's file and the long history between Jane Rizzoli and Charles Hoyt. The detective's closure rate was among the highest in the department and her acts of heroism were well known but at this moment, the investigator saw a woman who was clearly exhausted and unrepentant, justified in her actions. Therefore her outburst wasn't entirely unexpected but he needed to push and he needed to be sure.

"I understand you were originally called to the prison to investigate the murder of one Graham Randall," he was referring to his notes again, an affectation as he was fully briefed and had read the files. "Perhaps if you had concentrated your efforts on the investigation you were assigned..."

Her eyes flashed, meditation be damned. "You have got to be kidding me." Her anger started to bloom again and she pulled back her hair in frustration. "Really? Did you actually read those?" She pointed at the files. "I feel like I'm having the same conversation over and over," she muttered.

"Would you care to share?"

She paused; her jaw clenched as she struggled for control and fixed her newfound adversary with an even look. "You're implying I allowed myself to become a victim because I didn't restrict my thinking to the resolution of one murder, a murder I happened to solve."

"I'm implying nothing detective."

He was so aggravatingly calm it seemed almost arrogant and she was beginning to despise his superior tone. What did he know about what really happened? What point was he trying to prove? She'd solved the murder. Hoyt was dead. Job done. She certainly hadn't allowed herself to be a victim. She'd wanted answers, she went looking for them. It wasn't her fault she knew exactly where to look.

"However," the investigator continued, "It strikes me that once Hoyt appeared on the scene you were determined to involve him in your investigation somehow, like some kind of personal vendetta."

Her eyes flashed. She had certainly never intended to turn the investigation into a crusade.

"I followed the clues," she rebuffed. "I did what I am paid to do and looked into all the evidence presented to me. I know Hoyt. I know how his mind works and I knew... I knew he was involved."

He nodded in acknowledgement, accepting her statement. "So you knew he was involved and he sends you an invitation too impossible to resist."

It was her turn to nod and she eyed him suspiciously.

"So what exactly happened, detective?"

Her voice, always husky, reached a deeper bass tone as she admitted with shades of disbelief, "He had us in minutes."

She rubbed at her wrists.

"He restrained you?"

"Yes."

"How were you able to overpower both the guard and Hoyt?"

Jane swallowed and reached for the water to pour herself a glass. She sipped her drink and took a breath. "Hoyt cut me," she said.

The investigator spared a glance at her neck and nodded, "Okay, he cut you. What happened next detective?"

"I thought that was it. I thought it was finally going to end but then he... he backed off." She lowered her eyes to her hands, her fingers fidgeting with the glass as they rested on the table.

"He stopped his assault?"

"No," Jane shook her head, eager for the investigator to understand it wasn't as simple as that. "He redirected his attention."

The investigator waited.

Jane shifted in her chair. She was feeling uncomfortable again; the rising swell of nausea as she recalled the calm way Hoyt had turned and switched places with Mason. Casually walking over to Maura as if greeting a guest at a dinner party, Maura's petrified grimace, her whimpers of fear and the buzz of the tazer. Maura falling and Hoyt leaning over her, committing the same act of violence upon her best friend replaying like a scene from any number of nightmares she had had.

She cleared her throat, aware once more of the bruising ache and her voice was so soft and deep when she spoke again it almost cracked away to a whisper, "He chose to subdue Maur... Dr Isles."

"Ah yes, Dr Maura Isles, Chief Medical Examiner. Tell me detective," the inspector's voice took on a perplexed quality as he asked, "Why exactly was Dr Isles present today?"

Jane felt her mouth go dry, confronted with a question she had already asked herself and would no doubt ask again. She had two answers, one she could defend and rationalize but the other unnerved her. She had wanted Maura with her, needed her. When Maura came up with a workable explanation for why she should accompany her to the prison Jane was elated she wouldn't have to face that animal alone but even as she thought it she knew it was self-centred and risky. What could go wrong though huh?

She took another sip before answering.

"Dr Isles has also had previous dealings with Hoyt," she reasoned. "She was with me when I received the call he wanted to see me and it was her suggestion that she also attend. She believed that she would be able to help me identify which elements of Hoyt's statement would be true and due to the amount of morphine he would have been taking, what should be considered a drug induced fantasy."

The investigator nodded his acceptance of her statement even as Jane berated herself for allowing Maura to go with her. Damn it, Maura had been hurt, was hurt and truthfully, everything involving Hoyt felt like some kind of drug induced fantasy.

"So Hoyt subdued Dr Isles..."

Jane's hands clenched and unclenched as she continued her narration, "And then he cut her." She was torn between wanting to sob and wanting to unleash some serious butt-kicking badass again and the combination made her shiver in response.

"What happened then detective?"

Jane realised with a frightening almost sickening sense of reality that her memories were fuzzy and indistinct, a rapid blur punctuated with sharp shocks of pain and desperation.

"I... I umm...managed to ... overwhelm the guard and then I could see Hoyt was coming for me so I... I swung at him and we were fighting for the scalpel."

The investigator watched the detective's face as she struggled to clearly recall the altercation.

"Your hands were still bound at this time?"

"Yes."

He was privately impressed but let nothing show as he pressed on. "So you managed to disarm the assailant. What did you do next?"

"I..." Jane blinked at the man. "I stopped him."

"You stopped him."

Jane nodded.

"Tell me detective. You managed to disarm your assailant, you had him on the ground and you had rendered him incapacitated, is this correct?"

"Yes."

"Then why was it necessary to employ deadly force?"

To be continued...

**So... are you still with me? Any comments...?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author****'****s****Note:**My continued thanks to those who have shown interest in this story. Picked up the vibe that maybe you weren't too happy with the IA chap (at least I hope that was the issue ;) ) but you know, he has a job to do and all things considered, I hope where I've taken this continues to make sense. Once again any inaccuracies regarding correct procedures will hopefully be forgiven in view of creative needs.

I really hope this chapter is okay...

**DISCLAIMERS:** For full disclaimers see Chapter 1. I do not own Rizzoli & Isles or any of the characters.

All constructive comments, opinions and suggestions are welcome so please read and review...

**Chapter 5**

To say she was completely taken aback was an understatement. The shock of his question hit her like a splash of cold water and produced the same chilling response.

She gasped in a breath as she considered how to answer. This was supposed to be a formality, how could they question whether her actions were justified? They were justified weren't they? She had acted within the bounds of the law; she had acted in self-defence... instinct... survival?

Her entire head throbbed in rhythm with her pulse and her hands cramped as they clenched tightly with unexpected tension. She rubbed at them furiously.

This wasn't right, how could he be asking her why? Wasn't it obvious? Her mind scrambled to unravel the apparent non sequitur even as her face betrayed her disbelief.

"Detective," the inspector spoke again, "I asked you a question. Why was it necessary to employ deadly force?"

"He... he had us tied, tazered, cut..." Jane laid out the facts which only moments before had seemed so self-explanatory, "...Mason was down but not completely out." She started to flounder putting together all the pieces not just of what had happened but also beyond that to the knowledge of what she had done.

A sinking sensation swept over her body as she began to realise the implications of exactly how she had done it.

It shouldn't matter, it couldn't matter, it was a righteous kill, wasn't it? No, not just righteous, justified.

This man had tortured her for years, plagued her, stalked her, both in the living world and her dreams. She had tasted the fear and terror of knowing not only was she at risk but all of her loved ones were in danger too because this man had singled her out, because she had failed to do the job properly the first time.

That was her mistake.

That was her error.

Killing him was the right thing to do.

"Circumstances meant I could leave nothing to chance," she began. "Hoyt had already tricked and overpowered me. The guard was still a threat and my hands were literally tied. I took the only course of action available to me at the time."

Her ire growing she felt her nostrils flare with righteous indignation. IA could think what they liked but ultimately she had done what she needed to do and would do so again.

She didn't want to think about the fact she had taken a moment to gloat over her victory before stabbing the blade with vicious intent and consigning Hoyt to an eternity in hell alone. She didn't want to consider the fact she had been for all intents and purposes prepared to die until the moment Maura had been so senselessly attacked. She had simply done what she needed to do, how many ways could she say it? How many times?

She could feel her blood beginning to boil again and knew she needed to keep a level head if she wanted to get out of here any time soon.

The inspector studied her for a moment. She was beginning to loath his expression of excessive interest.

"You say the guard was still a threat," he finally broke the silence.

She nodded. Kneading her palms, the rough callus of her scar offering a strange comfort for once as her thumb brushed over it. "I had subdued Hoyt and I think I remember hearing the tazer whining. It was then Detective Sergeant Korsak entered the room and fired shots taking Mason down."

The investigator was already aware of the circumstances surrounding the shooting of the prison guard and knew it would be deemed justified. What he still couldn't understand was why exactly an unarmed, sick and subdued man had been stabbed by the officer leaning towards him who had an exemplary record and who was currently displaying an almost obsessive fixation on her hands.

"I want to make sure I've got this right," he began. "You had a minor injury to your neck and your hands were bound together."

Jane nodded.

"Hoyt didn't use the tazer on you."

"No, he threatened to but no, he didn't use it."

"But you were able to overpower and incapacitate the prison guard before disarming Hoyt and gaining the upper hand."

Jane nodded again, the details sounding bland and bare when stripped of the terror associated with living through it.

"Tell me, when Hoyt escaped and had his apprentice before and he was able to abduct you, he used the tazer to subdue you."

"He did, yes."

"And I understand he found it necessary to bind not just your wrists but your ankles as well. Is that correct?"

"Yes, my legs were taped as well but I don't see..."

"And again, you fought with two assailants taking down the apprentice and subduing Hoyt."

Jane was unsure where the investigator was going with all this. It was bad enough to have lived through the nightmare of today without having to dredge up her very real and almost debilitating fear of when Hoyt had taken her before.

"What I don't understand detective is that on both occasions the scenario would suggest you were facing unfair odds, you were disarmed, tied up, two opponents to one and yet on both occasions you prevailed."

Jane stared at him now. Was he expecting her to say something trite like, 'just lucky I guess'?

"Why is it that Hoyt lived through one encounter and yet, in a strangely similar situation it was necessary for you to deliver a killing blow?"

Jane had no answer for that.

When he looked into the detective's eyes he could see his question had shaken her. He could tell she truly believed her actions were justified but he needed her to answer the question, wanted her to answer it.

"Tell me detective, what was different this time?"

Maura.

The moment the investigator rephrased his question Jane knew without hesitation that the difference was Maura.

Maura was there and she was in danger and she would always be in danger if she continued to associate with her and Hoyt was still alive. The bastard would never give up. It didn't matter what she did, how she kept within the confines of the law, he would always find a way to circumvent it, manipulate it, manipulate someone, anyone to do his bidding and put them all, all of her loved ones in jeopardy.

Jane simply couldn't handle it anymore and the realisation stunned her more forcefully than any tazer could.

"Detective?" She had been silent too long. The investigator was beginning to worry as he watched the pleasantly tanned skin begin to pale, the bruises and signs of abuse contrasting strongly against her complexion.

"There was a civilian in the room who had already sustained injuries," Jane began, her mouth tight as she fought to contain her anxiety and her eyes defiant. She kept her voice steady, controlled and as she clipped out the words it was in an even deeper register than usual. With as much conviction as she could muster she delivered her answer. "I didn't know if the guard was still a threat and I acted... I took out the immediate threat. Korsak was there before I could confirm the status of the guard."

It was a lie.

She knew it was a lie.

She had reacted, not acted.

She was still savouring her victory when Korsak entered the room and she was a mess, incapable of thinking of anything beyond the fact that Hoyt would not hurt her, would not hurt Maura, would not hurt anyone ever again.

It was the inspector's turn to nod, "I see."

As a cold bead of sweat dribbled down her back Jane made eye contact with him and tried to ascertain whether or not he believed her.

~/\~

Maura found Dr Pike to be much more amenable and professional than in her previous encounters with him when she called him in to deal with the bodies at the prison but nevertheless she still felt the need to explain explicitly what she required of him when he conducted the autopsies. He had listened without interruption or comment and had even shown concern for her well-being which had the effect of making Maura feel a little emotional and unsettled.

She didn't want to dwell on the events of the day and was primarily concerned with how Jane was coping, particularly after noticing her reluctance to leave earlier. Jane had trudged out of the room with an almost despondent droop in her normally upright and forceful bearing and witnessing this lack of its usual dynamism Maura couldn't stop herself reflecting back to the brief moment of calm they had managed to share and the huskily spoken words offered up as if in confession.

'I killed him, Maura'.

She wanted to talk to her. She needed to reassure herself as much as anything that Jane really was okay beyond the physical injuries she had sustained. Her own cut, while a little sore, caused her only minimal discomfort and she had been fortunate, very fortunate this was the extent of her wounds. She had no doubts about the possibility of certain images replaying themselves in her mind but that was one of the reasons she really didn't want to dwell on the day.

She was therefore quite relieved when Korsak finally steered her away from the still active scene and drove her back to the station.

They had been travelling for a short while when Korsak suddenly tutted and shook his head, "I still can't believe she took them both down with her hands tied."

It was certainly an impressive feat. There had been several moments when she was held captive where she allowed more than a slither of doubt to enter regarding their chances of survival, particularly when Hoyt had thrown Jane around as if she was nothing more than a rag doll, but ultimately in the comfort of hindsight it didn't seem that hard to believe at all. It was just, 'Jane'.

"I mean, I'm not saying that I don't think Jane would have it in her," Korsak assured, "I'm just... That was really something, wasn't it?"

"I'm certainly grateful for her efforts."

Korsak muttered a 'sure, sure' as he kept his eyes on the road. He glanced at her briefly, "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I didn't really see very much," Maura told him.

"No, no of course not, I understand but you must've seen something. How much did you see?"

"Well, up until the point Hoyt used the tazer on me after he..." she shuddered a little in memory recalling how Hoyt had threatened Jane before cutting her and gained a new perspective and level of comprehension regarding his favoured modus operandi.

"Hey, are you sure you're all right doc?"

Maura's introspection had made her quiet and she jumped at Korsak's question. "Hm? Yes, fine."

"We could do this later if you pref..."

"Really, it's fine," she cut him off and was touched by the older man's compassionate sympathy. She had no difficulty understanding his apparent affinity with animals at all.

"Sorry, go ahead," she encouraged.

"Okay. Well, if you could tell me what you saw."

She took a deep breath and began at the beginning, keeping strictly to the facts as if delivering one of her autopsy reports. "When Hoyt first grabbed Jane I expected the guard to step in but instead he grabbed me."

She lifted her hand to her throat, conscious of the gauze and the wound underneath. "They put the zip ties on us and sat me on the bed with Mason standing guard. Hoyt tackled Jane and then he threatened her with the tazer."

"But he didn't use it on her?" Korsak asked puzzled.

"No, he was going to but I yelled at him."

Korsak harrumphed and Maura pondered what it was that caused the sound and expression which implied something wasn't adding up. She continued, "Then he cut her and I thought... I thought that was going to be it. I really thought..."

Unable to completely distance herself emotionally she sniffled. Her tears began to pool until she blinked and released they ran in tiny streams down her face. She pulled a tissue out of her bag to dab at eyes that betrayed her and regretted once more the uncontrollable connection between her amygdala and her lacrimal gland.

"Hey," Korsak released one hand off the wheel to squeeze Maura's where they now rested in her lap, fidgeting with the balled up tissue.

She smiled weakly at him and fortified herself to go on. "After that Hoyt and Mason switched places."

"Did they give any indication why?"

"No. They just... swapped."

"So Mason's with Jane and Hoyt..."

"Advanced on me, yes." She wet her lips, her mouth becoming dry as she remembered the absolute terror of that moment. Her vision had zeroed in on the tazer, Hoyt's taunting voice and in the background there was Jane, yelling, thrashing for release.

"I was fortunate to be seated on the bed. The tazer therefore only had the effect of disabling my brain's electric signals so when I lost muscle control the bedding cushioned my fall."

Korsak nodded, encouraging her to go on.

"Hoyt leaned over me and cut my neck," she shuddered again and recalled her pathetic attempts at pleading and the absolute terror she experienced as he virtually climbed over her to slit her throat, leering at her in his typically creepy fashion, "and that's when I heard the crash and sounds of an altercation taking place."

"So it was at this point, Jane tackled Mason and took him down?"

"I believe so, yes."

Korsak harrumphed again only this time Maura believed it was because something made sense.

"From the position I was in," she continued, "I was unable to see much beyond what was directly above me and some peripheral areas to either side at the level of my eyes. I was unable to move my head."

"If you couldn't see much," Korsak queried, "what about what you heard?"

Maura did not have to think too hard about it to hear the desperation in her friend's struggle. "After the guard had shouted at Jane to shut up, I heard a blow being struck; the sound of what must have been the guard hitting the wall and the tazer being used again. Hoyt had moved from my line of sight and I heard another smack followed by a metallic ringing sound. I believe this was when Jane disarmed Hoyt and he lost his hold on the scalpel. After that there was the sound of scuffling and Jane overpowering Hoyt."

Maura did not want to disclose the words she'd heard Jane say or the tone in which she had said them and hoped fervently Korsak would not press the issue and simply take her statement as it was.

"And that was it?"

"I heard the doors open and shots fired, which I know was you detective." She hadn't lied.

"Okay." They were pulling up to the station, "We'll need to get this typed up but thanks. Been a helluva day huh? You still going to Jane's party tonight?"

Maura nodded and grinned and then her face suddenly fell as her insecurity regarding her gift-giving abilities reared its ugly head. "I hope she likes what I bought for her."

"I have no doubt she will." Korsak knowingly gave a grin of his own.

At the precinct they parted company on the ground floor with Korsak citing his need for coffee and now Maura was exiting the lift and pushing through the double doors to enter the Homicide Division offices intent on dealing with her own needs and checking in with Jane. She was disappointed to note the raven haired detective was absent from her desk but spotted Frost diligently working and angled toward him.

"Hey Doc," Frost looked up and smiled warmly at her, "you looking for Jane?"

"Yes actually, I was hoping to catch her before the party this evening. You're going aren't you?"

Barry smirked. He had been listening to his partner bitch for the last couple of days about not wanting to celebrate her birthday and somehow that made the plans for this evening so much more enjoyable. "Wouldn't miss it," he confirmed. "You know Jane ran out of here about," he looked at his watch, "an hour or so ago. She had a meeting with IA."

"Oh," Maura said. "Do those meetings normally take very long?"

"I think it's a case of IA take as long as they need to take but I would have thought given the circumstances this will pretty much be a slam dunk."

Frost was a good detective, he may not have studied the various facial micro-expressions but he could tell from the doctor's face that something was bothering her and he was fairly confident it wasn't his use of a sporting metaphor.

"You think there'll be a problem?" he queried.

Unwilling to voice her concerns without discussing them with Jane first and not wanting to be caught in lie she frantically cast about for a way to answer that would at least be truthful, "I think Jane will provide a satisfactory accounting of the facts."

Frost hadn't missed the fact the medical examiner had to some extent side-stepped the question. "Uh huh," he nodded unconvinced. Something had happened in that infirmary and he really wanted to know what it was.

Maura hoped Frost wouldn't press her any further and thankfully he simply asked, "Want to leave her a note?"

"No," Maura shook her head. "I'll text her. I'll see you at the party."

Frost waved in response and went back to his reports, his curiosity buzzing.

Maura headed back to the lift. She checked her phone again and typed a quick message as she entered the waiting car and descended to the morgue.

Entering her personally decorated inner sanctum she instantly felt cheered by her surroundings and started up her computer. She had made her final decision on what to get Jane earlier that day and while she printed out the main element of Jane's gift she put the finishing touches on what she liked to think of as the 'accessory' present. There was something so appealing about shoe boxes on so many levels and they had the added bonus of being wonderfully easy to wrap.

She smiled as she recalled Jane rescuing her many shoeboxes after Angela had practiced her organisational abilities within Maura's home and how thoroughly apologetic Jane had been about it.

Still thinking about the sight of her best friend hidden behind a tower of boxes she reached for her printout and was startled when Frankie swung into the room via a one handed grip on the doorframe.

"I heard about Hoyt," he huffed out, clearly he had been in a hurry to get here and if his apparent state of unfitness was anything to go by then the ribbing from his family earlier about a few extra pounds may have some validity.

"What happened? How's Jane?"

"Jane's fine."

Frankie fixed her with the same look his sister often used, "You're sure?"

"As positive as I can be. Frost told me she's gone to a meeting with IA." She checked her phone out of habit and was disappointed there was no reply yet. "I don't know if she's still with them but I've not heard back from her."

"Okay, well... good. I'm sure she's not real happy about having to speak with IA but... wow, I can't believe that bastard's finally dead."

Maura understood Frankie's relief aware he had his own demons to deal with when it came to Hoyt courtesy of one of Hoyt's apprentices.

"And you," Frankie continued noticing the gauze on Maura's neck for the first time, "are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she began, "or at least I will be."

Frankie rolled back on his heels and nodded. "Oh, okay... um... you're coming to the party tonight aren't you?"

"I am."

"Great."

Maura could tell after the initial worry for his sister had been allayed, Frankie was looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Is there something wrong?" she asked.

"Huh? What? No." He shook his head vigorously and shuffled from foot to foot.

Confronted with yet another Rizzoli puzzle Maura's mind put together all the related facts and her eyes widened as she realised, "Your detective's exam. How did it go?"

He dipped his head in that shy endearing way he had and appeared to have an internal debate, "I did okay." He grinned at her, "Thanks for all your help."

"Sure," Maura beamed and found herself enveloped in a slightly awkward hug. There was something so eloquently engaging about the Rizzoli family and she felt honoured to be a part of their lives.

"That your gift for Jane?" He nodded at the shoe box shaped present.

"It is," Maura acknowledged and gave in to worry again. "I hope she likes it."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate anything you give her," he smiled.

Maura did not share the sentiment having already seen the responses to some of her earlier gift ideas but she really wanted to try and make this birthday live up to Jane's expectations for once and she considered she may have found the one thing Jane would approve of and enjoy.

"We'll see."

She looked at her silent phone again and noted how long Jane's meeting seemed to be running.

"There you are," said a voice at the door which bore a husky resemblance to Jane's.

Angela Rizzoli strode in her arms laden with a box she promptly sat on Maura's desk before crossing to the medical examiner and pulling her into a hug. "I heard," she said.

Maura swallowed and found herself becoming emotional and tearful again at the unselfish outpouring of love and acceptance so easily bestowed on her by her best friend's mother. So different from the relationship she had with her own family.

"Are you okay hon?"

"I'm fine Angela, really." She found another tissue and dabbed her eyes. "And before you ask, Jane was fine when I last saw her." Maura was beginning to understand the vague and loose nature of the word 'fine' and how it could be a wonderful catch-all for most eventualities.

"I'm just glad my Janey finally got the bastard."

The eerie similarity to Frankie's statement only further defined for Maura how affected the whole Rizzoli family had been by Hoyt and Jane's involvement with him and while she appreciated the sentiment she wondered at what the true cost would be to her friend. She had killed a man. However possessed of demonic will and inhuman desires Hoyt had still been flesh and blood.

Angela released her hold and moved back to the box. She looked at her watch. "It's getting late and if I know Janey she's going to try and duck out of any birthday celebrations. Frankie," she pointed at him and he almost leapt to attention, "I need you to pass the word we're going to set up in Jane's apartment."

"Really, Angela, do you think that's wise?" Maura knew how Jane felt about intrusions into her home and taking into consideration the events of the day it seemed a little unreasonable.

"She's going to have this party whether she wants it or not. She's alive, Hoyt's dead. We celebrate."

Maura and Frankie shared a look.

"Why are you still here?" Angela turned to her son. "Scoot, scoot."

"'kay, okay. I'm going." He kissed his mother as she swatted at him to go and complete his chores.

"Now, do you want to help me decorate Janey's place? I've got horses," she practically sing-songed.

Maura chuckled in the face of the irrepressible Mrs Rizzoli and could see where Jane inherited her confident charm.

"I'd love to."

She checked her phone again, still nothing. She sincerely hoped everything was indeed okay.

To be continued...

**Please let me know what you think :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author****'****s****Note:**Guess it's time to address one of the elements not everyone was happy with... but I'll wait until you've had a chance to read this chapter... :)

**DISCLAIMERS:** For full disclaimers see Chapter 1. I do not own Rizzoli & Isles or any of the characters.

All constructive comments, opinions and suggestions are welcome so please read and review...

**Chapter 6**

Jane's experience with IA had left her really shaken and as she made her way back to the Homicide Division she was still trying to process it and sift through the numerous unanswered questions the investigator had painfully and painstakingly raised. She had relived the last couple of days so many times over the last god knew how many hours, that instead of pulling it into focused detail it had blurred into a fuzzy nonspecific haze with only one or two points of blood pounding distinctiveness.

If only she could concentrate and weren't so bloody tired, she felt wasted. The hours spent with Internal Affairs had definitely pushed her to a new level of fatigue, one she didn't think it was possible to feel and yet still put one foot in front of the other.

She had asked Maura once how long a person could go without sleep and Jane was convinced it wouldn't be long before she reached the point when she would start having hallucinations. At least her headache had dialled down a notch, unless it was more that everything else had raised its game and was consequently masking its true level of intensity.

She entered the lift and checked her phone again out of habit.

She was still peeved they had requested she deactivate her phone to prevent unwanted distractions and interruptions during the meeting and had reactivated it the moment she left their offices, unsurprised to note several messages including one from Maura but she just wasn't ready to face anyone just yet and knew if she responded it would open the door to a conversation she wasn't prepared to have.

She was sorely tempted to simply bail out and head home but she knew she would never live it down if she tried to duck out of her ma's planned 'surprise'. The trouble was she knew for certain she would not be good company right now and although she felt bad and a little petty for potentially keeping everyone waiting, she reasoned they would likely all have a good time whether she was there or not.

She also knew as tired as she was she wouldn't be able to sleep and considered how unfair it would be on her neighbours to subject them all to her late night vacuuming again. Her only other option was out of the question as well, there would be no seeking solitude at Maura's place as Jane knew Maura would most likely be waiting at the party with the others.

Frustration nipped at the heels of her confusion and growing despair.

She had to do something, anything to achieve a state of mind suitable for public consumption.

In keeping with the hour the office was virtually deserted. Arriving back at her desk she wistfully noted the coffee she'd foolishly left behind poking out above the stack of files Frost must have prepared for her, a sticky note attached to the top complete with smiley face, reminding her she wasn't going to get out of her birthday celebrations. Like she didn't know that already; wasn't her fault IA was like a dog with a bone. Still the note made her smile.

She looked at her watch. It was late, really late.

She jiggled the mouse and her monitor came to life with the password screen. She remembered booting up prior to her meeting with IA and being called away before even accessing the system. Entering her password she waited for the software to load and started shuffling through some of the files to see where her input, signature or both were required to finish the report. She decided maybe by combining productivity with something routine it might help to still the churning waters of her thoughts enough to let her face her family and friends.

She worked steadily for over half an hour, the files moving from one side of the desk to the other as she processed them, before she noticed the characters on the screen were starting to blur.

In a futile gesture she rubbed her eyes.

She couldn't put it off any longer.

The monotony of her task had at least settled her mind and, although she was beat, she felt reasonably steadied and stable enough to face the inevitable.

Closing down the various applications and programs she waited until the computer shut down and then switched off the monitor.

With a different sort of dread she grabbed her jacket.

'Okay, here I come,' she thought half-heartedly, 'Yay.'

~/\~

It was so late when Jane finally made her way through the doors of the Dirty Robber she was wondering if technically it could actually still be considered to be her birthday. Unperturbed by the dark and intending to pre-empt the moment of surprise she spoke into the darkness, "Okay, yeah, yeah." When the expected jolt of shock still didn't happen she continued with an unenthusiastic, apathetic, "Surprise."

Nothing.

The bar remained shrouded in shadows. Confused Jane looked around the gloom in hopes that maybe they were playing with her, lulling her into a false sense of security. After all, she had kept them waiting.

"Hello?" she tried again.

As opposed to tumbleweed rolling its way across a barren landscape or town, Jane picked out the faint sound of squeaking wheels and glasses clinking together. She could see movement at the far end of the bar and the outline of a figure as they reached out and switched on the lights.

With the bar revealed to her she quickly realised it was completely devoid of guests, partygoers or indeed anyone save for the dumbfounded gentleman who she assumed, putting together the presence of his cleaning trolley with her stellar deductive skills, was the janitor.

Feeling incredibly awkward she smiled and waved. "Surprise," she voiced weakly.

He simply looked back at her. She wasn't sure if it was sympathy or if he was smirking and it was all she could do to contain her embarrassment and leave the way she came in.

Well, it was late. Even the bar was closed. Why did she think they would keep the party going forever? People have lives. Other people sleep.

She wanted to curse.

There was no order to it, she just wanted to curse: at Internal Affairs for taking something so straightforward and making it screwy; at Rod Mason for being such a murdering piece of garbage and a double-crossing lowlife to boot; at Warden Price just for being a prick she despised and because he allowed a lowlife like Mason to gain access and form a bond with the biggest waste of living material she had ever had the misfortune to know...

Inevitably she cursed at Hoyt.

Heading back to her car she climbed in and rested her head on the steering wheel. After all the fuss she had made about not wanting a birthday party, the reality of not actually having one was remarkably really upsetting.

A part of her was in some ways relieved as maybe now she could finally go home and attempt to get some much needed sleep. The other part of her however felt despondent. In a complete reversal to her earlier desires she realised she wanted to spend some time with her family, she was even prepared to admit to herself she was actually afraid to just go home and try to get some much needed sleep because she really didn't want to be alone.

Maybe if the party wasn't happening she could go to Maura's, she didn't usually mind what time she turned up on her doorstep. She was sure Maura would be pleased to see her. Wouldn't she? Hadn't she said, 'I'll catch you later' when they parted company at the infirmary earlier or was that just a nice way of saying goodbye?

Doubt started to enter her thinking.

Maybe after today it would be better if she just let things be. Maura had had a tough day too.

Debating it for a while longer she decided to stop being so needy and selfish and considered Maura also needed to put today behind her and she certainly didn't need to have to deal with her insecurities on top of that as well.

Her mind made up she started the car and headed to her apartment.

This time when she wanted to curse the only person she cursed at was herself.

~/\~

Frankie, like the good son he was, had managed to get the word around regarding the change of venue to all those who had been invited and although the guest of honour had yet to make an appearance, the party was in full swing.

Maura had spent the preceding hours assisting Angela in decorating Jane's apartment. She still had reservations about how Jane would react. The indelicate random placement of horse stickers on any vertical surface coupled with the homemade garland of horse pictures strung across the dividing line between the kitchen and the lounge made no mistake that Angela had taken the theme and run with it. She had even managed to procure some horse shaped helium balloons.

Maura was beginning to think she had maybe erred with her gift and Jane really did want a horse after all.

Too late to change anything now though.

Maura glanced at her watch concerned it was too late really for anything and was apprehensive about why she still hadn't heard from Jane.

She pulled out her phone for the third time in as many minutes knowing how absurd her repetitive behaviour was and checked it again. She would have heard if anyone had called or texted, she just didn't understand why Jane hadn't texted her back. She knew her meeting had ended over an hour ago; Korsak had put in a call to one of his old pals with contacts in Internal Affairs to try and find out if Jane had left yet.

By rights, she should be here by now.

Maura was worried for her friend. She had heard the cops around her discussing the events of the day and seen the odd looks they cast at each other whenever IA was mentioned. She had picked up from them that while it wasn't unusual for one of their meetings to run this long those gathered in this room felt Jane's was particularly unwarranted.

Of course they hadn't been in the room.

They hadn't witnessed Hoyt, the master manipulator at work and they hadn't heard Jane's victorious declaration.

Maura did not doubt what Jane had done but Maura was anxious about how IA may view it and ultimately, what it would all mean for her best friend.

~/\~

Disheartened, drained and dragging her feet, Jane wearily climbed the stairs to her apartment. On the drive home she had required all of her mental faculties to simply concentrate on keeping her eyes open and the car on the road. She knew if Maura were here she would have been horrified Jane had attempted such a thing, endangering not only herself but other drivers. Her only argument, weak as it was, was how late it was and that the roads were thankfully quiet.

The journey over, her mind seemed free to wander and continue with its constant analysis of the day's events and her participation in them. Preoccupied as she was, she entered her apartment and closed the door. Alone in the darkness she allowed herself a momentary sense of relief at finally being home and switched on the light.

"SURPRISE!"

She turned to be met with a wall of sound and jumped back startled. "God Almighty!" she exclaimed trying to suck in a breath. "Gee..."

She noted all the usual suspects were there, her ma, Frankie, Korsak, Barry, some of her colleagues from the department and of course Maura. They were all laughing gleefully at her state of shock and applauding both the success of their surprise and Jane's reaction to it.

At least this time it had been a nice surprise and the shock didn't leave her totally weak-kneed and wanting to vomit.

Jane caught her breath for what was beginning to feel like the hundredth time that day and took a good look around her apartment, noticing the transformation it had gone through and hoping fervently this wasn't the beginning of her hallucinations. Horses, hundreds of horses everywhere she looked either strung across the room, stuck onto walls or as inflated helium balloons.

"Wow." She was truly impressed if not a little disturbed.

"I looked everywhere for my pretty pony," she heard her mother say, her tone apologetic but hopeful. "I hope this is okay?"

How could it not be okay? As much as the woman annoyed her at times and as much as a significant part of her brain wanted nothing more than to shut down and put this day to bed, her mother cared enough and loved her enough to insist on celebrating her birthday, her existence and her life. In short, her ma was the best. "Aw, this is fantastic ma, thank you."

"Happy Birthday," she greeted.

"Thanks."

Jane crossed to the breakfast bar, hoping the weariness in her steps went unnoticed. Maura stood as she approached to offer her a drink and Jane laid her jacket over the unoccupied stool adjacent to her so she could take it.

"Wow," Jane commented as she looked at the beverage handed to her and tapped the cans together in a toast, "Dr Finicky drinking beer out of a can?"

"A lot of it after today."

Jane understood that sentiment and tipped her head back to take a much needed mouthful.

"Although I can taste the aluminum."

The statement, delivered with Maura's patented aplomb, almost caused Jane to both inhale and expel her intake in a snort and she quickly covered her face to contain it as genuine amusement bubbled out. It was always like that with Maura, so unexpected, so informative and so honest and Jane loved her goofy take on the world.

"Hm," she agreed as she studied the offending can and for the briefest of seconds pondered how she had nearly lost this. Nearly lost what had become one of her most necessary and endearing friendships because of one man's perverted fascination with her.

Meeting Maura's eyes with her own she acknowledged, "Well I got my wish." It was a dangerous confession on the heels of the IA investigation but a fact nonetheless.

She turned to look directly at her mother and announced with little fanfare, "Hoyt's dead."

If she had been seeking approval, Angela's close-mouthed smile and definitive nod illustrated her deep understanding of what her daughter's words meant, how it promised Hoyt would never be able to hurt or terrorise any of them again.

"A gift to the world," Korsak raised his paper cup in salute. "Happy birthday, Jane."

While Hoyt's demise could be considered cause for celebration on its own a sombre mood fell over the room.

"Come here," Frankie said as he stepped forward and embraced his sister in a heartfelt hug. He had something which would really cheer her up.

"Hey," he said as he stepped back and reached around to his back pocket.

"What?" Jane asked instantly curious.

He produced a folded piece of paper which he handed to her with a smile, "Happy Birthday."

She smirked as she took the paper and unfolded it, picking up on his casual cockiness as he exchanged knowing smiles with their ma. It was the results paper for his detective's exam.

"You got a 96 on your exam?" Jane was elated. "Oh yeah, you really bombed it," she said as she swiped at him with the slip in congratulation.

Her ma was applauding as Korsak spoke up and puffed his chest with pride, "Hey, he had a pretty good tutor."

Instantly Frost weighed in, "Why are you taking all the credit?" he asked. "I taught him everything he knows." He looked at Frankie in appeal and smiling jokingly prompted, "Huh?"

"All right," Frankie agreed and they shared a handshake.

"All right," Frost beamed and the partygoers broke into laughter again.

Maura had watched the interplay between family and friends. She had been so relieved when Jane had finally walked through the door she found she was almost mesmerised, her senses trying to take in every action as she looked for clues that would enable her to decipher how Jane was really feeling and discern the outcome of her meeting with IA.

She had noticed the evident fatigue as Jane crossed the room and the weary introspection as she studied the can of beer.

Delighted she had however inadvertently made Jane laugh she waited patiently while Frankie shared his news and then saw this as her opportunity to present Jane with her gift. She had fretted over it for days, disappointed at both Angela's response to the practical idea of a sleep monitor and Jane's virtual horror at riding in a hot air balloon.

Picking up her gift she approached Jane and tapped her on the shoulder to gain her attention. A little nervous but excited, she handed her the beautifully wrapped box and quite unnecessarily stated softly, "It's from me."

"Oh boy," Angela said not having a clue what Jane's friend eventually decided on but hoping for both their sakes the gift was a good one.

Jane began to turn the box trying to guess what it could be, shaking it she said, "Well, this looks a lot smaller than Walter the thoroughbred."

Mindful of Maura's tendency to be so literal most of the time and having witnessed her apparent lack of concern regarding the value of money, as evidenced by her excessive contributions to the coffee pool or purchasing one of her mother's 'works of art', Jane was actually relieved her friend hadn't taken her at her word when she glibly answered Maura's earlier pleas to make it easy on her and tell her what she wanted. Really, what would she have done with a horse?

"I hope you like them," Maura said, her anxiety bubbling up a little as Jane opened the box and started to peel away the tissue paper.

"They're..." she removed one of the items to better see it, baffled and slightly thrown by the unexpected footwear, "...driving shoes."

"Racing shoes," Maura corrected and then launched into an obviously well researched listing of their attributes. "Fully lined with fire resistant DuPont Nomex."

"And, I need these..." Jane found herself attempting to explain why she needed them as she really didn't want to hurt Maura's feelings or embarrass her by seeming ungrateful. She searched around for a reason finding no help from either her ma or Korsak who looked as taken aback as she felt and haltingly continued, "because..."

Maura produced an envelope and handed it to her.

"Um..." putting the bright red shoe back in the box and hoping they could gloss over the unusual present she took the envelope, tucked the box under her arm and removed the paper.

Jane's tired mind read the contents in disbelief.

"Racing school?"

She quickly scanned the words again and put it together with the shoes as the proverbial penny dropped. "You're sending me to racing school?"

"Well you know, Walter's highest speed is forty miles per hour," Maura watched as Jane turned to her ma with open-mouthed, wide-eyed disbelief and then spun back to her. "And the Lamborghini's Murcielago LP640's highest speed is 211," she continued, her recitation met halfway through with a full on Jane Rizzoli body hug as Jane launched herself at her and began to bounce up and down excitedly.

Maura hugged her back and looked over at Frost who gave a thumbs-up. Still needing to be sure Maura squeaked out, "Well, do you like it?"

"Yes! Yes! Thank you so much," Jane enthused and gave another squeeze before pulling back to look at the details of her gift again. "Oh, this is so much better than a horse. Oh my god."

It had been one hell of a day and Maura's generosity and thoughtfulness managed to banish however momentary any further dwelling on it, at least while she was riding her current high. Driving school? It was perfect.

She was still tired and considering the lateness of the hour was sure her guests were too but her ma, determined to ensure Jane enjoyed the total birthday experience, was rallying the troops and called out, "Okay, piñata!"

Jane rolled her eyes, "Really, ma?"

It was definitely going to be a long night.

To be continued...

**So um... I know some of you really didn't like the fact they had a birthday party and I understand that but I'm hopeful that I've managed to stitch the pieces of canon together so it makes a little more sense and I would love to hear your opinions either way. Did it work or did it disappoint?**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author****'****s****Note: **As always, my appreciation to those taking the time to feedback and comment, it keeps me writing :)

**DISCLAIMERS:** For full disclaimers see Chapter 1. I do not own Rizzoli & Isles or any of the characters.

All constructive comments, opinions and suggestions are welcome so please read and review...

**Chapter 7**

Korsak stood just outside the doorway, "You're such a good little girl aren't you? Yes? Yes you are."

Maura smiled as he continued his baby talk, fussing and petting over an appreciative Jo Friday who had spent the evening shut away in Jane's bedroom to avoid being trampled on by unwary partygoers.

"Thanks for taking her," Maura said in a hushed voice.

"Oh sure," Korsak spared her a look before turning back to crouch down and fuss with Jo's ears. "You needed to go outside didn't you?" he was talking to the dog again. "Hm? Didn't you?"

When Jo didn't answer and Maura silently stood over him while clearly guarding the threshold to Jane's apartment, he began to think maybe he had outstayed his welcome. All the other guests had already left leaving only Maura, Jane and Angela and while they had begun 'clean up' duty against Jane's protests to leave it until tomorrow Korsak had volunteered to take Jo out for a walk.

It was now a good ten minutes later and peering over Maura's shoulder as she blocked the entranceway, he spied Angela alone in the kitchen area finishing up clearing away some glasses.

"Where's Jane?" he asked, hoping to say goodbye to the birthday girl and to satisfy his own peace of mind his former partner really was okay. He'd watched her during the party. Her normal passion and exuberance subdued as she moved from guest to guest, working the room and ensuring everybody was spoken to. Sure, she had joined in with the ribbing and general banter giving the impression that everything was all okay but he'd also caught the way she constantly surveyed the room and surreptitiously kept checking to see where Maura was.

He wondered if Maura had noticed it.

In all honesty Korsak was worried about Jane, not just about the fact she looked so worn out and tired but also because he was worried for her.

Throughout the evening there had been no further talk of Hoyt beyond Jane's initial statement of his death. No one had broached the subject of her IA meeting and it was like some unspoken agreement that any shoptalk be restricted to humorous stories of some of the dumbest criminal exploits they had had the fortune or in most cases misfortune to deal with.

"Hey Jane..." he began to call out only to have Maura pulling on his arm and shushing him. She stood with her finger pressed against her lips in the universal sign for 'be quiet' and, opening the door a little wider, gestured over to where the woman in question could be seen reclined at the far end of the couch her head back and mouth slack, tendrils of hair splayed out like dark waves upon a russet shore.

He was about to continue when comprehension dawned, "Oh..." He grinned and lowered his voice, "Tell Jane I said goodbye," and then to be sure Angela heard him he raised his voice to a stage whisper, "And thanks for the party."

Angela waved her towel in acknowledgement but his lack of discretion earned him a scowl from Maura.

"I will," Maura said, anxious for Korsak to leave. It was late and while she was appreciative of Korsak's help Maura knew Jane would be less so if he caught her napping.

They had been in the process of clearing up when they realised Jane had stopped responding to their chatter and Maura had been about to wake her to suggest she go to bed when she picked up the noise at the door marking Korsak's return; Jane hadn't even stirred.

"And thanks again for walking Jo," Maura continued sotto voce. "I don't think Jane would've been up for that this evening."

They shared a look. Korsak's eyes communicating his concern and query more eloquently than any words could.

"I'll make sure she's okay," Maura promised.

With an affirming nod he bid a silent take care and goodnight and left.

While Jo Friday scampered back to her cosy retreat, Maura turned from the door and deciding to let Jane be for the moment, looked over at Angela who stood drying her hands.

"Well I think that went well," Angela stated, her rasping voice needing little assistance to sound quiet as long as she wasn't worked up about something.

"I agree. You did a wonderful job Angela." She crossed over to her so they could continue in hushed whispers and gestured to the decorations still present in the room, "I think Jane really appreciated all of this."

The corner of Angela's mouth quirked upward in a quiet smile. "Yeah, even if she does always pretend she's not bothered and doesn't want the fuss. Think we should take them down?"

"No. I think it's late," Maura stated. "And you've done so much today already." She studied her friend's mother and thought about how different her own upbringing had been in comparison. She couldn't imagine her mother ever decorating her home the way Angela had done. It would have to involve one of the finest most expensive consultants that could be found, everything would have to be tasteful, meticulously placed and unquestionably would be expected to remain untouched. It certainly wouldn't have been allowed to suffer and endure some of the shenanigans the guests this evening had perpetrated. Maura shook her head, she didn't think she would ever view helium balloons the same way again.

Although her mother had started taking steps to repair the damage years of benign neglect had caused and Jane would possibly think her crazy for wanting it, Maura would never know this kind of mother's love.

"You know Jane's very lucky to have you."

Angela's eyes began to swim all too aware of how differently today could have ended. "I think I'm lucky to have my little girl," she said, "and she's lucky to have you."

Maura was a little taken aback by the statement and countered, "I'm the lucky one."

They shared a hug and Angela wiped at her eyes feeling a little silly at getting all sentimental but she was unable to keep the horrors of the day at bay for forever and grabbed at Maura's hands to ask the question she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer to but was compelled to ask, "Can you tell me, how close he was...? How close that bastard was to taking away my little girl?"

Maura closed her eyes and swallowed unsure what the appropriate response to the question should be when Angela reached out to brush a lock of Maura's hair behind her ear and continued, correcting herself, "Both my girls."

The sense of belonging and inclusivity warmed Maura. She wanted to answer her, she couldn't lie but how did one gauge the severity of their situation in terms of measurement? The truth was Jane was here, alive. They both were. Regardless of the level of danger they were in they had survived.

Without resorting to platitudes Maura reasoned Angela didn't need to know the details, didn't need to endure the sick horror of what they had both been through and certainly didn't need to know the suspicions playing out in Maura's mind. Angela needed reassurance of the one undeniable fact that in the battle between Jane and Hoyt, Jane had ultimately won.

With conviction Maura answered, "I don't think Hoyt ever stood a chance."

Her words had the desired affect and Angela nodded in thanks.

"Look at me keeping you here after the day you've had. You must be wanting to get home too?" Angela asked.

"Actually," Maura began, uncertainty creeping in with regard to her plans, "I had intended to stay over."

"Oh," momentarily nonplussed Angela asked, "Did you have too much to drink? Would you like a lift?"

Maura was in no way over the limit and only had a very slight buzz going as, however much the day had called for it, the taste of the aluminum really had spoiled her enjoyment of the beer. Instead she had preferred to slowly sip and savour the couple of glasses of wine she'd helped herself to, especially considering how late in the day it was before Jane even arrived.

"Um, no... actually I..." she glanced in Jane's direction and became unaccountably flustered in trying to explain her reasons for wanting to stay.

Taking pity on her Angela simply said, "It's okay Maura. I think she'd appreciate it if you stayed."

Maura smiled her thanks.

"In that case, I'll let you take it from here." Angela pulled on her coat and picked up her bag. She stepped over to the couch and placed a kiss on her daughter's head, smoothing out the uncontrollable locks of hair.

"Typical Janey getting all tuckered out." She moved to the door, Maura following, as she continued, "Every birthday party, always the same thing ran around until she collapsed. My fault probably," she confessed. "Too much sugar."

"Jane does tend to get a little overexcited."

Angela chuckled, "Yeah, well usually she made herself sick so keep an eye on her."

"I will." Maura kissed Angela goodbye and closed the door.

Tired from the long day Maura leaned back against the door for a moment to bolster her own flagging reserves.

In all honesty she hadn't wanted to spend the night alone and having gathered a wealth of empirical data through her association with Jane she was confident in her assumption that Jane would not want to be alone either. She was also aware of Jane's propensity for disturbed sleep cycles, particularly whenever Hoyt raised his ugly head and Maura wasn't averse to employing the recognised technique for reducing anxiety by sleeping next to her in the hopes it would build her confidence nothing was going to happen, that she was safe.

So far it had always worked like a charm and would have the additional side benefit this evening of reassuring Maura. Not that she thought she'd have any problems falling asleep, she was quite accomplished in the art of meditation but she couldn't deny how comforting it was to have the detective close by.

Maura pushed away from the door and walked over to look down on where Jane's body was currently wedged into the corner of the couch, her long limbs sprawled out as if she lay where she had fallen and the bright red of her racing shoes making an interesting fashion statement as they contrasted against the dark material of her pantsuit. She smirked as she recalled how Jane was determined to try the shoes on with almost childlike enthusiasm and had barely managed to restrain herself from miming a circuit around the racetrack complete with the appropriate sound effect noises.

While she was happy her gift had been well received it was Jane's diplomatic and quietly stated 'Best. Present. Ever,' that finally soothed away any remaining doubts and insecurities she may have had.

Jane meant so much to her.

She marvelled again at her friend's strength and courage. She was certainly a force to be reckoned with but Maura had a niggling concern regarding the IA meeting she had yet to discuss and wondered whether Jane had drawn some of the same conclusions she had drawn as the events of the day settled into the vaunted perspective of hindsight.

Jane twitched and Maura winced at seeing her frame contorted in what had to be a highly uncomfortable position. Not wanting her friend to suffer if she slept like that for the remains of the night Maura sat beside her and reached out to wake her up.

~/\~

Being surrounded by family and friends was a good thing but having spent the majority of the day with either a blade at her throat or figuratively teetering on the knife's edge of her IA investigation made the whole idea of having a birthday party slightly surreal.

While the child inside her delighted at her special day not passing unremarked, the adult, the part of her that was a cop, found it hard to fully disengage and enjoy herself as she would with the innocence of youth.

That's not to say she didn't enjoy herself, up to a point she had.

Frankie had scored high on his detective's exam and she was going to go to racing school. Yes! She wiggled her toes and looked down at her flame red shoes taking pleasure at the prospect of surrendering to speed and the accompanying rejuvenating thrill of excitement at the thought which surged through her sluggish system.

Unfortunately the surge was short-lived, unlike the party.

Even though her apartment wasn't large she did her best to work her way around the inevitable pockets of guests who either congregated in the kitchen area or migrated to the comfort of her couch. She engaged in their various conversations if only to appease her ma who had clearly put a lot of effort into making her birthday a special event but the day had already been eventful enough and she couldn't stop the nagging voice at the back of her skull or shake the steadily growing need to reassure herself they were all safe and there was no further threat, imminent or otherwise.

It made her inexplicably jumpy and she didn't like it.

She could put it down to the number of times her system had been shocked today but she was a cop, she was supposed to be able to deal with situations that were both demanding and stressful.

She could blame it on the amount of sugar she had consumed in an effort to satisfy both a sweet tooth and to provide an energy boost in order to stay awake.

She glanced at Maura who was laughing at something Frost said and relaxed a little.

She knew who to blame. If she had a case of the jitters it was all Hoyt's fault. She hated to admit it but he always made her jumpy. Even with the satisfaction of knowing he was dead she was still leery of how many more apprentices he had waiting in the wings. She shuddered, anxious to banish those thoughts lest she never slept again.

Furtively she did a headcount checking she knew where everybody was and satisfied rejoined the conversation.

Gradually, as the hours ticked by, the guests finally started to leave and the party wound down.

Closing the door on a giggling Frost and Frankie, arms draped around each other's shoulders in brotherly comradeship and a balloon in each free hand, she turned to see her mother filling the sink, bubbles frothing forth in preparation to wash the glasses Maura was systematically collecting on the counter nearby.

"Oh come on ma," she whined, her shoulders dropping forward in a pathetic half-shrug. "Just leave it; I'll do them tomorrow," she shook her head calculating, "today. Whatever, it's late, they can wait."

"I know, I know but really, it won't take five minutes to sort some of this stuff out. It'll save you having to deal with it."

"I think I can handle some dishes ma."

"Uh huh," her mother looked at her sceptically.

With a look of 'help me out here' at Maura she could see she wasn't going to win when Maura, clearly caught in indecision on whose side to take simply began picking up some of the discarded cans.

Korsak, their one remaining guest appeared with Jo Friday. "Hey Jane, want me to take this little one out for a walk?" He was rubbing noses with the scruffy dog as her tongue strained to lick any part of his face she could reach.

"Yeah, sure. That would be good, thanks." Like, what the hell? They were cleaning up now, why put things off? Take the dog and come back and bathe her, why not? We'll have another party. Sure. Who needs sleep? Nope, not me. Totally overrated.

She knew in her mind she was being petulant and of course Jo needed to be able to answer the call of nature but Jane was reaching her level of tolerance. Her apartment was starting to feel crowded and it was beginning to feel like Korsak was hovering, her ma was hovering, all of them were hovering and she had had enough.

Korsak eyed her as she waged her internal war and fixing Jo's leash, set the little dog down, her body vibrating in excitement at the prospect of her walk.

"Okay. Back in a bit," he said and left, already in conversation with his canine friend.

Jane sighed heavily and resigned, reluctantly began straightening her room.

She heard her ma and Maura engaged in discussion and made the appropriate noises of acknowledgement when directed her way even though she wasn't really listening.

She spied an empty can which had somehow made its way under the coffee table and bent down to pick it up. Standing up a wave of fatigue washed over her and she swayed a little as she waited for the head rush to subside. She was beat. Her headache had decided to reassert itself and marked its return to dominance by drumming a steady throbbing tattoo behind her right eye. Both eyes stung with the effort of keeping them open and her stomach, not wanting to be ignored, was protesting the lack of real food as it attempted to digest the overabundance of sugar and beer.

She felt like shit.

Her knees buckled and she sagged into the conveniently close by couch. Her eyes closed of their own volition and try as she might, she could do nothing about it. She was sinking, boneless and without tension she lolled like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

Her mind floated, the familiar voices becoming a soothing white noise devoid of sense or meaning.

She hung for a while, suspended in the moment between awake and asleep.

Her skin began to prickle.

Something felt wrong.

Her breathing sped up as a foreboding sense of dread surrounded her.

Something was very wrong and every instinct in her was screaming at her to move, to leave, to be anywhere but here.

Someone was nearby and a chill descended down her spine as uneasy, she tried to move.

She couldn't.

Her heart raced as her adrenal gland went into overdrive. Fight or flight.

But she couldn't move.

Her trepidation magnified.

A soft whisper danced across her skin and she shivered.

Her hands, she couldn't move her hands.

She forced her eyes to open and looked down, saw the zip tie encircling her wrists restricting their movement.

"Why did you kill him?"

The question threw her, the voice composed.

"I didn't," she growled in protest. "I protected."

She tried to move away, to push back but it was futile. She closed her eyes and squirmed, twisting, her throat dry.

There was a tutting sound, meant to admonish and she sucked in a shallow breath as she felt the cold touch of steel upon her skin.

"Oh Ja...ne," Hoyt's voice now, drawing out her name in a familiar lilting song designed to tease and torment.

She screwed her eyes shut tighter, her heart slamming into her ribcage as her pulse threatened to burst through her veins and tear through her flesh. Sweat trickled, puddling in the small of her back.

"You should know," the voice scoffed, so close now she could feel the warmth of his breath, "I always finish what I start."

She forced her eyes to open.

He was leaning over Maura.

She increased her struggles, her breathing irregular and her body tensing so taut she feared she would snap before her bonds did.

He was cutting Maura.

She couldn't move damn it, she couldn't move. Maura was going to die and she couldn't move.

Hoyt laughed and Jane allowed her appalled gaze to drift up so she could see.

Maura stared directly at her with glazed, dead eyes.

To be continued...


	8. Chapter 8

**Author****'****s ****Note: **Wow, I really don't think I can adequately describe the feeling of trepidation I have about posting this next chapter, without question the toughest one to write so far. I need to thank my friend, The Critic, who was able to give this chapter a once over for me, even though I still felt it wasn't quite ready and have subsequently gone and added yet more to it without her blessing or approval. I therefore sincerely hope this chapter works!

**DISCLAIMERS:** For full disclaimers see Chapter 1. I do not own Rizzoli & Isles or any of the characters.

All constructive comments, opinions and suggestions are welcome so please read and review...

**Chapter 8**

"Jane!"

Jane recoiled as she slammed awake, her breathing ragged. Scrabbling to retreat she burrowed her spine deeper into the corner of the couch, her knees reflexively pulled to her chest in a vain attempt to protect herself against a relentless foe she knew to be dead.

Unable to curb her irrational worry she anxiously scanned the room for intruders, the visual sweep finally allowing her breathing to slow and her brain to accept there was no scalpel wielding sociopath in the room.

There was only Maura.

Maura who was patiently waiting on the couch next to her, her eyes very much alive and full of intelligence, compassion and at the moment a mixture of confusion and concern.

Embarrassed, Jane dropped her head into her hands and massaged the top of her forehead.

She'd only been out for a moment she was sure but the dream had felt so real. She usually valued and relied on her intuition, it permitted her to so effortlessly take leaps in logic and drill down the details of a case but here, coupled with her overworked and sleep deprived brain, it had served to take the most troubling elements of her day and through their lurid display raised questions which honestly vexed her.

She just couldn't nail it down and the end result was a niggling sense that she had overlooked something, something important. The question was what?

Irked and wishing she could shut everything down or box it all up into neat little compartments, Jane mentally chastised herself. However personal it was to her she hadn't been the only one affected by what had happened and the sooner she could get her act together and her head screwed on straight, then maybe she could talk it through with the one person she trusted as much as her instincts.

Maura had jumped when Jane startled awake. She'd recognised the brief flash of terror, the dark, liquid eyes communicating the frustrating loss of control and inability to prevent what was happening. It was the same look she'd seen earlier that day when Hoyt had held them at his mercy and as then, it was tinged with an underlying trace of guilt.

Maura had always found it odd how Jane could feel responsible and guilty for another's behaviour and actions. Yes, she understood the 'cause and effect' logic that if Jane had taken one of her opportunities to kill Hoyt, he would not have been alive to subject them to his perverted and twisted idea of social interaction but reasoning of that kind could stretch back and on and on forever. Maura firmly believed Hoyt made his own choices. What he did and how he did it were all of his own volition; Jane was not responsible and Maura believed this to be true right up to the very end.

She resettled herself and having sadly witnessed Jane's nocturnal disruptions on numerous occasions, was familiar enough with the routine to know she would need a moment to process her surroundings. Maura was content to use this time to assess the physical state of her best friend.

Jane's skin was ashen and glistened with a faint sheen of sweat. There was the telltale darkening of the nasojugal folds, an indication both of possible vitamin deficiency and her lack of sleep and they served to underscore her pinched eyes with a broad bruising sweep of dusky lavender. Maura remembered she hadn't seen Jane eat much of anything healthy during the party and while she knew Jane had a sweet tooth Angela's parting words regarding Jane's typical consumption of too much sugar only reinforced her belief this was in keeping with her normal 'party' habits. Her hands exhibited a perceptible tremor as Jane rubbed at her forehead and her entire posture reminded Maura of the early days following Jane's release from the hospital after being shot, guarded, wary and in pain.

You did not have to be a medical professional to diagnose the palpable exhaustion that fairly radiated from the detective's compacted form.

Gradually Jane unfolded and lowered her feet from the couch to the floor to sit forward and rest her elbows on her knees. Scrubbing at her face she widened her eyes, her eyelids fully retracting in an attempt to achieve some state of alertness but her vision remained annoyingly blurry and her eyes, sore and resenting the intake of light, disobeyed her commands and retreated into a squint. In all honesty she felt shaky and out of it, her brain a fuzzy confusion as she tried valiantly to catch up with the shifting vistas between reality, memory and dream.

She cradled her head briefly in her hands and after girding herself with a heavily exhaled steadying breath, brushed back sweat dampened hair and looked up.

"Hey," she ventured and gave a weak smile.

"Hey," Maura responded in kind.

Levering herself against the back of the couch, Jane twisted to look around her apartment and sought to gain confirmation of her initial brief inspection, "Did ma leave already?"

"Yes, a few moments ago. Korsak a little while before that."

They both spoke quietly in deference to the hour.

Jane nodded relieved. It was just the two of them.

For the first time since their brief respite after the incident in the infirmary, they were finally alone.

Jane just wished she didn't feel so strung out.

Despite her rude awakening her eyes seemed determined to rebel and slid shut. She yawned, her efforts to attain full consciousness falling pathetically short of the required mark as she knew she needed to wake up if only to stumble into her bedroom to try and get some proper sleep. Not that she was totally convinced her brain would allow her to get some proper sleep and if her recent short nap was anything to go by she wasn't really all that sure she wanted to try but it had tweaked her investigative gene and there were questions she needed to ask if only she could wake up.

It shouldn't be this difficult but she was just so bloody tired. What the hell time was it now anyway?

Ineffectually she rubbed at her eyes.

"You know Jane, you really shouldn't do that. Rubbing your eyes can cause the fluid pressure in the eye to spike up to ten times the normal level which can contribute to the progression of pressure related diseases such as glaucoma, myopia, short-sightedness..." Maura began to falter when the eyes in question turned on her half-lidded, "Not to mention repeated rubbing can weaken the levator muscle which would cause the upper eyelid to droop."

In spite of her less than and rapidly declining sociable mood, the reprimand was received in the spirit it was intended and relenting, Jane ceased stabbing at her eyes, slumped down with a moan of defeat and tilted back her head. She allowed her eyes to close. "Okay Dr Google, have you finished?"

'Not by a long shot,' thought Maura seeing the swollen and dilated blood vessels in the surface of Jane's sclera but she let it go for now. "You need to sleep."

A slight nod was the only indication Jane hadn't already fully succumbed to the blatantly obvious suggestion and Maura was beginning to think she would have to manhandle her to either position her comfortably, if she was going to simply crash out where she was or drag her to the more restful option of her waiting bed nearby.

Just when she thought she would have to take action, Jane spoke.

"Helluva day huh?"

"It's had its moments."

One eyeball opened and rotated to look at her and Jane's mouth crooked into a smile. She held out her hand and Maura took it.

"You okay?" Jane asked.

"I'm much better now," Maura answered and lightly squeezed their hands for emphasis.

Jane smiled. Her next words were spoken with a level of probing introspection "You know I think the last time I felt this tired was..."

She remembered. She had been plagued for days or nights really with the same constant nightmare that had culminated with the discovery of a flare, one of Hoyt's little helpers and Frankie having to face the ordeal of taking a life. The only really salvageable moment from the whole affair was the sight of Maura, the badass with a gun.

Even now, without the gun, she knew Maura was watching over her. They were friends, best friends; that's what they did.

Her mind was starting to float in that punch-drunk fashion which came with utter exhaustion. She'd stupidly spent an entire night searching through case files looking for a connection to Hoyt and although it had eventually paid off it meant she was already working on a sleep deficit before their final encounter. Now she was paying for it in a whole manner of ways.

Lethargically her thoughts rewound to earlier when she was left to watch as Hoyt threatened her best friend but somehow, where before she had see-sawed between an assortment of varying emotional states ranging from fear to despair and rage, all she felt now was disturbingly numb.

"Jane," concerned by the quiet unfinished statement, Maura was tugging on her hand trying to gain her attention, "you're exhausted and you need to sleep. We can talk tomorrow."

While she harboured only a minimal reluctance at the prospect of trying to sleep again, Jane was ambivalent about her desire to talk. She'd spent most of the day talking and frankly none of it had yielded anything of value. What did the damn IA guy know anyway, he hadn't been there? What could he know about how it felt to be the focal point of a serial killer's fixation? To know anyone and everyone you knew was fair game and worse, she couldn't understand why was she still letting him bother her so much? So he'd drawn some comparisons, the different events weren't the same. There were similarities sure but this time... this time there had been far too much at stake.

Her stomach clenched. She felt empty.

Her ma had provided and catered a wonderful spread of home-cooked food for her party as anticipated but Jane had unfortunately been unable to indulge in any of it. She should've been starving but she had moved beyond the point of hunger and realistically she hadn't believed she would keep any of it down if she'd tried. Her alternative had been to overlook the sensible options available to her, choosing instead to pick at the variety of sweet treats which she washed down with what was unmistakably becoming one too many cans of beer.

As far as decision making went it was not one of her finest moments.

When her stomach roiled she wondered if that error in judgement reflected in some small way her abilities over the last few days. Had she made the right decision in allowing Maura to accompany her? Had she made the right decision to end Hoyt's life?

Was it choice or instinct?

Right or wrong?

Her hand rose instinctively to rub at her eyes again.

When Maura adjusted her position and cleared her throat the subtle reminder caused Jane's hand to immediately freeze.

Nothing was working; nothing was helping her to find the answers she so desperately sought. She was trying in vain to think and unwilling to face another well intentioned chastisement she pinched at the bridge of her nose in hopes that maybe that would help her focus.

However many times she played it back the moment of truth was always obscured and indistinct. When this was coupled with the questions she encountered from IA and the fact she was operating at less than a hundred percent, a very large seed of doubt had taken root and was beginning to germinate in her mind.

Could she have handled it differently?

God she wished her brain would stop its incessant hammering.

Regardless, there was one undeniable truth.

"I killed him Maura."

Maura, already concerned by Jane's changing pallor, considered the statement and its delivery. Jane's voice was flat, lacking the usual lilting intonations which had at times bamboozled Maura until she became more familiar with the other woman's sometimes sarcastic style. She genuinely believed the best thing for Jane right now was to sleep but she also knew from experience how difficult it was for Jane to switch off and relax; heaven knew she had forced the woman to indulge in numerous activities to facilitate such a state but all had been met with varying degrees of success.

The problem was Maura had also been thinking on this act throughout the day ever since Jane first made the statement back in the infirmary and she was therefore torn as to whether this was really the best time to broach the subject with all its possible ramifications or if she should keep her suppositions to herself.

"It was a difficult situation," she began and glanced down at their joined hands. She was taken once again by the slender length of Jane's fingers, the surprisingly wiry strength and the smoothness of her skin. Nestled at the centre lay the jarring nub of flesh, the visual physical reminder of what or rather who actually lay at the crux of their current conversation. She ran her thumb across it as if to erase or claim it and Jane shifted. When Maura looked up she saw the uneasy expectant glint in the worn-out chocolate eyes. No, she decided, she would hold off on her own thoughts for now and see where Jane was going to go with this. "You did what was necessary."

"Was it?"

"What?"

"Necessary."

Jane hoisted up from her reclined position and with shoulders slumped forward allowed her remaining free hand to dangle limply between her legs, the picture of defeat. "Did I have to kill him?"

"Is that what Internal Affairs wanted to know?"

Jane looked up sharply then nodded. "I had him Maura. He was on the ground, disarmed and I had him." She growled in frustration, "The man was dying of cancer for god's sake."

She looking imploringly at her best friend, "Was I wrong to kill him?"

There were no easy answers to that question. Morally, killing was never an option but circumstances and an involved complicated history had skewed the moral compass until the path was decidedly twisted, murky and unclear. It wasn't black and white and could never be for Jane, especially when it came to Hoyt.

Hoyt was a serial killer, a sociopath who you could argue didn't deserve to live after ruining the lives of so many others and from a personal perspective they had both been in very real danger of adding to his count. From a legal perspective however, he had been judged by the laws of the land and sentenced accordingly.

Jane had been given the opportunity to ensure that sentence was served, even if it would ultimately be reduced as a result of Hoyt's illness, by rendering Hoyt incapacitated. That was what she had done before when confronted with a similar situation, the problem was this time it appeared she had chosen differently.

Maura knew Jane, knew how she had an enormous capacity to care to the point where some would say that perhaps she sometimes cared too much but Maura also knew how any doubt regarding the morality of her choices would scar her as deeply as any blade or bullet ever could.

It seemed Jane was determined to have this conversation now and so, needing to ease the distress so clearly apparent in the beseeching bloodshot eyes, Maura followed her lead. "I don't believe you had a choice."

Jane regarded her. It wasn't quite the absolution she'd been looking for and there was something in the way Maura said it. "Didn't I?" she questioned not quite grasping the sense of resigned conviction and the reason behind it. She tried to concentrate, to bring some clarity to the flash of events you would think would be so indelibly burned into her brain.

Maura may have been in the room but she'd been stunned by the tazer, meaning she would have been unable to properly witness everything that happened. She couldn't have seen, couldn't know how real the possibility was of Jane choosing a different option and simply subduing him.

"He should have killed us," Jane reasoned. "Don't get me wrong, I'm delighted he didn't but you know... by rights he should have killed us."

Releasing her hold she reclaimed her other hand to scrub at her face, the cobwebs once again fogging her thought process. "Why?" she asked. "Why didn't he take advantage? He had the perfect opportunity, he had us... had me."

Frustration at the stream of unanswered questions reeling inside her head fought with her exhaustion and had her posing the point which had bothered her all day. "Why didn't he use the tazer on me?"

"You know his M.O." Maura began, "Hoyt wanted to control you, creating the most extreme level of fear a human being could feel..."

"By killing somebody you love in front of you," Jane finished. She could feel the tears burning at the back of her eyes and met Maura's watery gaze. Hoyt had certainly managed to accomplish his goal there.

"I don't think I've ever been so terrified," Maura admitted. Her terror had been overwhelming when Hoyt had advanced toward her. When her rostral anterior cingulated cortex did little to mitigate the fear response generated by her amygdala she had felt her mouth go dry and her facial muscles contract. The knowledge of his past crimes had provided a horrifying anticipation of his intentions and Maura was literally scared stiff, frozen as if already stunned.

Jane winced as the shard of guilt pierced her again and her face softened in empathy. "I'm so sorry Maura."

"For what?" Maura asked perplexed.

"For dragging you into this, for allowing you be involved."

"Jane, I made the decision to go with you. You didn't decide my actions for me any more than you did for Hoyt."

"Yes but..."

"No. No buts."

But I was selfish and wanted you there with me and if you hadn't been... what? Jane's brain ticked over and considered a new possible scenario, one she voiced out loud. "He wanted you there."

Maura watched as Jane stood shakily and began to pace, one hand rubbing at her forehead to either soothe or draw the answers out.

"He wanted you there. He knew... he knew you would be with me. Damn it that was all part of his plan. It had to be."

She began to suck at her thumbnail. Other pieces were starting to fall into place as her new line of reasoning brought forth additional possibilities which hadn't previously occurred to her. "He couldn't be satisfied with simply killing me; he wanted to make sure I suffered first. I get that damn it but... it still doesn't make sense."

She wished the infernal pulsing resonating around her skull would stop and let her think. She just needed a moment to think. Instinctively her hands met cradling one inside the other and her thumb worked vigorously at the scar as her brain worked upon the riddle.

"Even if he chose not to use the tazer on me..." she posited and stalled. There was something there, something just within her grasp. "During the fight..."

Maura's eyes flickered and Jane caught it. She had definitely been missing something and she pushed her weary brain to work out what that something was.

"Two against one," she said thinking back to how the IA investigator had really emphasised that point and realised for the first time the enormity of what she had managed to do. "It was two against one and I had my hands tied."

She looked down at her hands as if expecting to see the answer there and then it struck her. "Hoyt had time."

The images started to form and resolve. Her adrenaline pumped and the relentless ache spread from the nerve centres in her head to form a tense line across her shoulders. "I was fighting Mason and Hoyt..." She remembered, she could see it clearly now. It hadn't been two against one because Mason was down before Hoyt had even attempted to engage her. Pushing through the fatigue she continued her line of thought. "He had time, more than enough time to do some damage. I was fighting Mason and my back was to him. Hoyt should have been able to disable me, to land a blow at least. But he didn't."

She looked squarely at Maura who shifted uncomfortably and appeared unsettled.

"He was with you," Jane stated. "He had time to..." She swallowed and gained a personal dislike for 'what if' scenarios. Her breathing sped up. She was finally beginning to make connections and realisation flowed as rapidly as the blood within her veins. "He could have killed you before turning on me or simply turned and took me down."

Why? Why hadn't he finished what he started? While his boasts about so doing were perverse, it made no sense to Jane how on this occasion the outcome had been what it was and she struggled with understanding.

"He must have hesitated..." she rationalised.

"No," Maura cut in, concerned at how flustered Jane looked trying to slice through the anatomy of the event in her search to find answers as if she were conducting an autopsy, "he waited."

Jane stopped her pacing and the moment of clarity she was so desperately striving for receded back into a jumbled mass. "What do you mean he waited? Why would he...?" She shook her head, "How do you...?"

Maura wiped at non-existent creases across her lap before clasping her hands together to conceal her agitation. She sat with her spine in a perfect posture and provided Jane with the piece she had been missing. "He was standing over me and I could see directly above, straight at him."

Jane sat back down and took both of Maura's hands in hers. Maura continued, wary about how her friend would react once she finished what she had to say, "When the fight broke out Hoyt waited. He smiled at me, genuinely pleased and then winked before stepping away."

"He waited?" Jane was urgently trying to get her foggy brain to fathom the importance of what Maura had just said. "Why would he wait, he had the advantage. Unless..."

It struck her like a physical blow.

"...he didn't want to win the fight."

She could feel her gorge rising as her stomach threatened to rebel. "That's it isn't it? That's what he really wanted?"

Jane felt foolish. How could she not have seen? Stupid, stupid, stupid! "He wanted me to kill him didn't he? That was his endgame."

Maura said nothing but when she looked at her with big doe eyes that earnestly communicated sympathy and nodded her agreement, Jane felt sick.

The bastard had manipulated her, again.

It was too much, however capable she was of being tough, of being able to view some of the most heinous atrocities one human being could inflict upon another and still be able to do her job, it couldn't change the fact that at this moment she was truly sickened.

She could taste the nausea building at the back of her tongue and alarmed, she sprang from the couch with unexpected alacrity to race to her bathroom. There, her disgust, her exhaustion and her abused and neglected stomach all clambered to claim ownership as she fell to her knees and for the second time that day expelled its contents.

To be continued or most likely concluded...

**If so inclined, I'd love to know what you think. Thanks for reading :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Author****'****s ****Note: **At last, the posting of the final chapter. Definitely a bittersweet moment and one filled with possibly more apprehension than the others because this is it, the culmination, the end. Did I manage to write the story I set out to write? I think so. Is it ultimately going to be a disappointment to those who have been kind enough to follow the story and read my humble offerings? Absolutely no idea...

Thanks again to my friend The Critic for reading through this chapter and providing encouragement :)

**DISCLAIMERS:** For full disclaimers see Chapter 1. I do not own Rizzoli & Isles or any of the characters.

All constructive comments, opinions and suggestions are welcome so please read and review...

**Chapter 9**

Maura had expected a reaction of some description but was unprepared for the loss of yet more colour as Jane blanched and then leapt up to make a hasty, stumbling retreat for the bathroom. She rose from the couch fully intending to follow Jane's fleeing form when she hesitated a moment and hearing the sound of her friend's distress, veered toward the kitchen area instead.

She grabbed one of the bottles of water knowing Jane would need it. Just as she knew Jane had needed to know the truth however much it could ultimately hurt her, she was brave that way and Maura was truly in awe of her friend's courage.

While Maura recognised Jane's selflessness was one of her most admirable qualities it was also one of her scariest and Maura had sat all too often on the sidelines waiting, full of worry and concern. Today she had been treated to a front row seat and while she had been petrified by the predicament she was in, a truly perverse form of interactive theatre, Maura had begun to have revelations of her own about why she was alive at this moment and able to ponder on it. With all the evidence she had gathered throughout the day, her own memory of the event and the odd little comments which had been made when recounting it, she had reasoned that regardless of any manipulation Hoyt may have masterminded Jane had acted. She just wondered whether Jane had really identified when and why?

She found herself questioning how many times would Jane either willingly or unwillingly put herself at risk? How many times would she throw herself into her work to the exclusion of all else? And how many times would she turn up on her doorstep with that look of exhausted, wary vulnerability and desperate appeal, searching for something, wanting something and yet unable or unwilling to vocalise it out loud? Maura was thankful she at least had the ability to decipher those silent cries for help.

Jane needed her now.

Approaching the bathroom Maura noted how the door had been pushed so it was partially closed and marvelled at how Jane's often prudish nature with all things biological could assert itself even when she had more pressing matters on her mind, or rather her stomach, to attend to.

The sound of retching reached her again and Maura knocked for entry.

"Don't come in," Jane gasped, desperate to avoid further humiliation.

"But Jane..." Maura didn't understand.

"Please." Jane's voice was almost a whine now as her stomach continued to convulse.

"How is this any different from when I was with you this morning?"

There was a pause. "Because..."

Maura waited.

A slighter longer pause and then, "I was in shock that time."

Jane announced this with a questioning 'ta-da' quality that suggested she was both pleased with her answer and unsure whether it would serve to save her from further embarrassment. She hated being ill, sick, wounded, weak, whatever. Bad enough she practically broke down in Korsak's arms again this morning, yesterday morning. Geez, she was tired and frustrated and as much as she appreciated Maura's concern she would really rather prefer to be allowed to endure this moment in private.

Her insides flip-flopped and she knew with utter certainty the build up of fluid at the back of her throat was signalling another impending evacuation.

Maura stood on the other side of the door and tried to peer in through the gap. Jane's claim of not minding being seen because she was in shock earlier had a ring of truth about it which Maura couldn't deny. There had been numerous occasions where Jane had hidden her pain and suffering, at least until it reached the point where it became unbearable and something had to be done about it. Maura wasn't sure whether it was a macho thing or simply another way for Jane to protect those around her. She didn't understand it but there was a lot about Jane she didn't understand and it was that confusing complexity which intrigued her.

Still, when she heard Jane throwing up for the third time followed by what sounded distinctly like a whimper, any observations on social parameters, rights to privacy or shielding sensibilities went out the window. Maura cared too much for Jane's wellbeing to stand on ceremony and simply barged into the room.

Jane had braced one hand against the floor while the other held back her hair. Her stomach contracted as she heaved a thin dribble of liquid and her back arched giving the impression of a distorted, grotesque yoga pose.

Tired eyes glanced up as Maura entered and Jane struggled valiantly for some composure having succumbed twice so far today to a weak stomach. She looked pitiful. She felt awful.

Maura crossed over to her and knelt down. She placed the bottle of water on the floor and, mindful of the acrid aroma, glanced into the bowl.

"Oh tell me you did not just do that?"

"What?" Maura returned her look with wide eyes.

"Don't give me that innocent look Dr Isles. I saw you look in the bowl."

"Well," Maura shrugged, "I've told you before Jane, stomach contents are always the best part."

"Ewww," Jane shuddered, her face the picture of disgust.

Maura however, had a cute expression which could only be described as that of a kid in candy store."Interesting, I didn't think you liked pink."

"What?" Jane wiped at her forehead. Her time praying to the porcelain god had done little to lessen the pounding in her head and had served to create an aching hurt in her knees that paralleled the tension running throughout her entire body. She wasn't entirely sure she could keep up with and process whatever titbits of information Maura might have for her and truth be told, she was still trying to digest her revelation regarding Hoyt.

Maura pointed towards the toilet. "The colour," she began, her voice clearly showing her fascination with the subject. "It's tinged with pink. Now of course it could be the result of a minor trauma in your upper oesophagus or oropharynx which can be caused by vomiting or retching but..."She caught Jane's worried and horrified look. "Oh no, it's nothing to worry about."

Jane simply offered a slow nod, not quite believing they were having this conversation.

"I just think it's more likely a result of all of those pink sweets you kept picking at."

She grinned and Jane was convinced if given the opportunity, Maura would collect a sample and run some tests to prove her hypothesis.

Maura meanwhile ignored Jane's look to continue and scold, "You really should know better, although it does follow pattern."

Jane was starting to lose the thread. She felt like utter crap and Maura was sadly beginning to make no sense to her whatsoever.

"Pattern?"

"Your mother."

"What does my mother have to do with this?"

"She was telling me how you tended to make yourself sick, something about too much sugar."

"Really?"

"Uh huh," she was distracted by the colourful display again and then, perhaps due to the look of discomfort on Jane's face or the realisation her attempts at levity had typically failed, changed tact and retreated to what was for her, and she hoped for Jane, reassuring 'google-speak'. "Did you know the triggering of the autonomic nervous system is a primeval response to fight or flight?"

"No, I did not know that." Jane was trying valiantly to settle her insides down and not be provoked by the sight of her friend's sickening and repulsive interest.

"It's easier to fight or flee from your enemy if your gut is empty as blood can be diverted from the gut to your muscles." Maura leaned in towards the bowl.

"You just can't help yourself can you?" She winced as her abdomen contracted again.

"No, I don't think I can."

They smiled and then suddenly Jane lurched over the bowl. This time her efforts were unrewarded and resulted in painful dry heaves. Immediately sympathetic, Maura attempted to aid her troubled friend. She held back the unruly locks of hair with one hand and rested the other near Jane's lower back, the contact both reassuring and natural.

Heat radiated through her shirt. Her skin felt clammy and the physical act drained her already diminished resources. She pulled back, winded. Her breathing was shallow and rapid, sweat beading at her temples. She wiped the spittle from her mouth, disgusted once again by her body's betrayal; she was trembling. Temporarily spent, Jane flushed the toilet before folding herself forward and resting her forehead on the cool tiled floor. She couldn't hold back the pathetic whimper.

"Are you okay?"

A slight nod of her head and then a muffled, "Yeah, just give me a minute."

Maura gently rubbed Jane's back as she waited for the depleted woman to regain enough energy to sit up again; standing would have to wait a while.

When the dizziness passed Jane pressed her weight so it was supported by her arms and locking her elbows braced herself against the floor. Walking her hands backwards she gradually acquired an upright position.

Maura undid the bottle and handed Jane the water. "Here, drink some of this."

"Thanks."

While Jane took a sip and swilled out her mouth, spitting out the remnants in the bowl, Maura stood up and crossed to the sink. She opened the well stocked medicine cabinet and searched through the adequate supply to select an appropriate pain reliever. She then ran a washcloth under the tap to dampen it and returned to her friend.

Jane took another sip of the water, swallowing this time and then rolled the bottle along her heated skin.

"You better take these." Maura offered the pills and then dropped them into Jane's waiting palm. "I know you haven't taken anything for that headache you have yet and these should be fine with your transient gastralgia."

"Really? You can't just say stomach upset?"

Maura, unsure whether Jane was messing with her again, looked at her with her apologetic, 'I'm sorry but you know I can't help myself' look.

Jane snorted. "It's fine Maura and thank you." She frowned at the pills. Why hadn't she taken something earlier? She swallowed them down and hoped they would work quickly. Yet another poor decision seems she was batting a thousand.

She picked at the label on the bottle, her mind relentless in its direction.

"He got what he wanted didn't he?" she finally said.

Maura nodded and knelt down beside her. She really wanted to get off the bathroom floor but understood Jane's reticence to leave just yet. Some colour had returned although she still looked a little peaky. Maura volunteered the cloth and leaned in to wipe Jane's face, "I believe so, yes."

Jane shifted so that they broke contact. "You knew?" She couldn't stop the irrational feeling of hurt at knowing Maura would keep this from her.

"No, not at first." Maura's fingers fiddled with the damp cloth, disregarded and ignored for now. Regardless of how much Jane's accusation stung, she physically ached to reach out and offer some comfort to her tired and hurting friend. "It took me a little while to piece it together but as you said, some things just didn't add up. It wasn't until later that I remembered Hoyt smiling at me before he joined the fight. I didn't think I'd remembered it correctly but the facial alignment, it was definitely genuine. He was happy."

She couldn't bear it any longer and shuffled so she could reach out to take Jane's wrist and pull her towards her. There was no resistance as Jane seemed to sag and crumple appreciatively against Maura's shoulder. Maura readjusted again to wrap an arm around her. Holding up the cloth her eyes sought and gained permission and she began to tenderly wipe Jane's face as she continued. "I know he waited and it's possible to argue that was a failing of smug superiority but added to the fact he didn't subdue you with the tazer, his terminal cancer and ultimately his fascination with you... I'm sorry Jane."

"Bastard!" Jane spat emphatically.

Maura simply squeezed her in answer.

Jane felt played. All along she had followed the clues to his little game but never had she anticipated the part she would play in his final showdown. She should feel vindicated. She should feel like they had both finally gotten what they wanted with Jane by far having the much better end of the deal but in reality she just felt played, manipulated and used.

It stuck in her craw and for a moment she feared she was going to hurl again. Her eyes felt heavy, her limbs felt heavy and yet the only thing keeping her grounded on the bathroom floor was the warm and comforting presence of the woman beside her.

Heartsick at the events of the day and her role within them she could feel her eyes burning with unshed tears. She buried her face into the undamaged side of Maura's neck, inhaling her familiar scent, and was determined she wasn't going to cry over Hoyt, not when the world was a far better place without him; it had just been a really, really long, long day.

After several quiet minutes had passed and Jane's weight appeared to grow heavier, Maura feared she had finally fallen asleep.

Maura removed the water bottle Jane somehow still managed to clutch from limp fingers and jostled the unresponsive woman a little to wake her up. "Come on Jane, time for you to go to bed."

In response, Jane seemed to sigh and turned to snuggle even further into the crook of Maura's neck. Maura's smile was whimsical as she considered her predicament and how of all the times to achieve the goal of helping Jane to relax it would have to be here on her uncomfortable bathroom floor.

Unwilling to spend the night there, however cosy her sleeping companion might be, Maura shuffled out from underneath. When this didn't elicit a response and Jane's head rolled back to rest against the wall Maura became more concerned with how out of it Jane appeared. At least earlier if she'd crashed it would've been on the couch.

"Oh no you don't," Maura admonished. She tapped Jane on the cheek to bring her around and received a moan in reply. Eyelids fluttered and closed again.

Not wanting to have to take drastic action Maura tried again. She took her firmly by the shoulder and gave her a little shake, her voice sharp as she clearly stated, "Jane, you have to wake up now."

Jane roused with more success this time and Maura carefully began to tug her into an upright position.

"Where're we going?" Jane asked confusion apparent in her voice.

"To bed," Maura huffed. Although she was physically strong for her size and used to literally dealing with dead weight, Jane's taller and lankier form was proving challenging to manoeuvre.

"Oh yeah?" Jane sniggered.

"To sleep," Maura clarified.

They had stumbled through to the bedroom with the half comatose detective leaning more heavily on her friend when Jane began to struggle in earnest. Finding it difficult to keep a hold on her Maura was unable to flick the light switch and had to navigate the room in the ambient light, mindful of Jo Friday's presence and various abandoned garments strewn about the floor.

Jane's protest continued. "I don't want to go to sleep," she mumbled.

Perplexed by the statement and not wanting to highlight that once again Jane didn't seem to have any choice in the matter, Maura simply guided her to the edge of the bed and sat her down. The act of sitting took any remaining fight out of her and boneless, Jane fell back onto the pillows. Relieved, Maura grabbed her legs and swung them up onto the bed. She released the Velcro from the racing shoes and loosened the laces, speaking in quiet reassuring tones as she went.

"You need to sleep, Jane." Not a believer in wearing shoes to bed, one shoe was removed and placed on the floor.

"Don't wanna..." the mumbled response, this time accompanied by Jane clearly trying to rouse herself to wake up.

"Why wouldn't you want to go to sleep?" Maura struggled to remove the other shoe as Jane wriggled in her efforts to try and sit up. The second shoe dropped to the floor to join the first.

"... 's always there..."

"Who is?" She bent down to collect her gift and spying the shoebox, went to store them correctly. While fairly sure what the answer to her question would be, she wasn't sure Jane had responded. The silence stretched on and she began to feel relief that maybe Jane was finally going to fall asleep, that was until Jane spoke again. Only it wasn't speech exactly more an inarticulate sob.

Worried now, Maura moved back to the bed and perched on the side. She looked down into bleary, half open eyes, moved by how they glistened even in the pale light. "Who's always where, Jane?"

Jane clenched her jaw and looked away. When her thumb moved to rub against its twin palm, Maura laid her hands over them, stilling their movement. Jane's eyes tracked back to her, a strange combination of defiance and defencelessness.

"I thought it would end," she finally said. A tear leaked out to roll down the side of her face. "You know, I once told him I'd love him when he was dead but funny thing," she snorted in derision, "I don't actually feel that great about it at all."

She pulled one of her hands free to wipe at the steady trickle, embarrassed but grateful for Maura's presence.

"What the hell is wrong with me?" she asked.

Maura considered whether to mention how any underlying depressive or anxiety disorder could lead to 'somni' or hypnophobia but Maura believed Jane's apparent fear of sleeping could more likely be attributed to her susceptibility to reoccurring nightmares. Yes, they were troublesome but they had become more infrequent until this latest encounter and she was confident that in time they would dissipate altogether. This didn't seem to be the time to discuss that though and what Jane really needed to hear from her wasn't some science fact or trivia, she needed to hear the truth, plain and simple.

"Nothing, Jane. Nothing is wrong with you. I believe what you're feeling is a normal response."

Hopeful eyes betrayed a hint of disbelief.

"You did what you had to do," Maura continued. Whether as an outcome of some master manipulation or the desperate struggle to save lives, Jane had acted and prevailed.

"I sure hope IA sees it that way."

Maura patted her hand in a supportive gesture and bent to remove her own shoes. Reluctant to add yet more creases to her dress, she stood, removed it and placed it on one of the spare hangers in Jane's wardrobe.

Propelled by the sudden anxiety of not knowing her own fate, Jane used the spurt of energy to sit up and remove her pants. A chair nearby was heavily laden with clothes and she tossed the pants onto the accumulating pile building there. Her button up shirt soon followed but missed and landed on the floor. She didn't care.

She pulled back the bedding and climbed in between the cool sheets with blessed relief.

Maura picked up the shirt along with a couple of other items, draped them respectfully over the disturbing mound of clothes and then crawled into the other side of the bed. Jane's last statement was still turning over in her mind and she curled on her side to face her.

Jane lay on her back staring at the ceiling, her eyes darker now.

"Did you tell them?" Maura asked.

Jane's head turned to face her. "Tell who, what?"

Maura studied her and debated whether to mention it or not. Compelled by her concern about the impact it could have she said, "What you said. Did you tell IA?"

Jane feigned ignorance and looked at her with a perplexed expression.

"I win," Maura said her voice catching. "And you're going to hell alone."

Jane realised she was foolish to think Maura hadn't heard her. At the time all she could hear was the overwhelming sound of blood rushing, white noise engulfing her. She could hear it now buzzing in her ears, growing louder. Of course Maura heard her, she'd probably screamed it. Maura had been stunned, she wasn't deaf.

Jane tried to control her panic. She wanted to run, hating how recent events had put a hair trigger on her fight or flight instinct and was causing an unsatisfying ripple in her stomach but Maura had shuffled closer and laid her arm over her waist, effectively pinning her gently in place.

She took a steadying breath. "No I didn't," she confessed. "But it seems I didn't win either did I?"

Relieved Jane had had the sense to leave that part out of her report Maura still caught the bitterness and became angry.

"You're wrong Jane. Hoyt got what he wanted but you're here and he's not. I think that's a big win."

Maura emphasised her statement with a gentle squeeze. They held each other's gaze each aware of the other's watery smile.

"Thank you," Jane said and stretched forward to place a kiss upon Maura's forehead. She rolled her aching body so she was facing Maura, turned and plumped her pillow to find a comfortable, cold spot to lay her head and allowed the coolness to assist the painkillers which were finally kicking in. It offered some relief but couldn't quell the nagging concern regarding the final outcome of her IA investigation. She was reasonably confident she would be cleared but there were no certainties.

"I feel like crap," she muttered. For all her protests earlier she wished that her body would relax enough to enable it to give in and fall asleep.

Maura's arm, which had remained around Jane's waist as she adjusted and settled into her new position, flexed and tightened. The rustling sound of bed linen accompanied movement as she shuffled and pulled herself closer to snuggle in, nestling Jane against her.

"You'll feel better tomorrow. Just go to sleep."

For a moment Maura thought her goal had been accomplished. Nothing could be heard in the room except the sound of breathing and then a small voice asked, "What if he comes back again?"

"I'm here Jane, I'll protect you. It's my turn. Now, go to sleep."

Jane finally unwound and let go, happy to be held in the reassuring comfort and closeness of Maura's body. She knew the dreams would come and the spectre of Hoyt with them but waiting for them in the corner of her mind was Dr Maura Isles M.E., badass with a gun, her lifelong best friend forever.

The End

**Well...? That's it.**

**I have to say these characters have in many ways been an interesting challenge to write and as someone who simply finds words fascinating and fun to play with, I have really enjoyed this experience.**

**I truly hope you have enjoyed the ride with me and I am very grateful for those who requested story alerts or 'favourited' this story as it kept reminding me that people were waiting and I needed to get on with it :) Always good to have motivation.**

**And in terms of motivation... most of all, thank you to those that took the time to comment and feedback, it really is incredibly valuable even if sometimes you're unsure whether it's good or bad and can make you doubt the direction you're taking... ;)**

**I would love to hear your thoughts but ultimately, t****hank you for reading!**

**CroftL**


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